


Couplage

by msmerlin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonding, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Mates, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, PWP, Smut, Veela
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 02:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16441190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmerlin/pseuds/msmerlin
Summary: When the Ministry decreed all persons with Veela heritage must make the pilgrimage back to Les Champs D'accouplement for a mandatory two week stay to their most sacred grounds, Draco was far from happy. Little did he know his connection to the Veela Queen and just how upside down his world would turn after his short stay. PWP. Non-War AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not make money from this. All credits for characters can be given to JK Rowling.
> 
>    
> This lovely little diddy was written for Dramione Fanfiction Writer’s Tropefest. I was assigned the Veela trope. This was not something I was familar with in the slightest when assigned, so forgive the die hard Veela fic fans if this disappoints. I did take a couple liberties to make this story work how I saw fit, such as: Draco & Hermione went to school together, just as they did in the series but there was no war. No DE, no Dark Mark, etc.. This really pushed me out of my normal comfort zone with writing and I cannot thank Dramione Fanfiction Writer enough for pushing me! Side note: I do not know French and used Google Translate to help, sorry if it's not 100% perfect.
> 
> Alpha: Disenchantedglow - Girl, this story would have NEVER come about if it wasn't for your endless support. <3  
> Beta: Islandgurl777 - my ride or die bitch. love you forever and always. I might even consider giving you a kidney if needed. ;)
> 
> Enough blathering from me. go read, review and hopefully don't throw too many tomatoes my way!

Draco stood near the end of his bed, his wand tapping against his chin as his steely grey eyes flickered between two button-down shirts that were nearly indistinguishable. Both charcoal gray, both with long cuffs, and both impeccably pressed. The difference between the two being the stitching pattern that ran the seams of the pressed fabric. Most might consider something so trivial, but Draco was clearly not one of those people.

"Honestly, Draco. You really need not be concerned with which designer you will be wearing while there," came the calming dulcet tones of his mother from the doorway to his room. Narcissa, ever the epitome of grace and sophistication, glided into the room. The floor length gown she had decided on this morning hid her heels from view and it almost appeared as if she was floating across the wooden floor of the manor. "But if you must, I would say the one on the left." Lifting her holly wand, she pointed to the selected shirt and with a quick swish, it began to fold itself before neatly settling in the trunk that lay open on the edge of his bed.

Draco knew his mother was excited for his departure. She could hardly contain her joy the moment the letter from the Ministry arrived. _**Ministry Sanction 7981: Unbound Wizards or Witches with Veela heritage must make the pilgrimage to Dauphiné, France for a two week mandatory stay beginning their 24th year**_. It was nothing but a crock of shit and he was certain it might possibly be illegal. Under different circumstances his parents might have agreed and helped him fight the decree, but Narcissa had been pestering him to go there since his 17th birthday.

Les Champs D'accouplement, or as it was loosely translated, _The Mating Fields_. A proverbial breeding ground for all persons with Veela heritage and the most likely place he would find his mate. The idea sent a bolt of energy to his gut that made him nearly nauseated. He did not have time to deal with things like mates, marriage or babies. He was preparing to take over Malfoy Industries the following year and would much rather spend his heats in bed with whatever random witch he had happened to be shacking up with during that time. It was far less complicated; the chances of reproducing were very limited due to the wonderful contraceptive potions (which were known to not work while Veela females were in heat) and there was zero commitment to stay with the witch. Besides, they usually made it through the week just fine. Sure he had to restrain himself from fully giving into his desires, but he's never hurt a witch.

No, this was just the Ministry overreaching, yet again, because some fucking Wizard (or Witch) lost their head with a non-Veela and they got injured in their frenzy. Truthfully, it was kind of absurd because how bad could a sex injury truly be?

"Despite what you are assuming, Mother, I intend to stay fully clothed during my stay," Draco explained, his own wand flicking the other floating shirt back towards his walk-in closet before he moved over to the trunk to make sure everything was in order. Loafers, check. Trousers, check. Button downs, check. Pajamas, check. Reaching to the top of the trunk, Draco pulled the heavy lid closed, letting the thunk resound off the walls in his room for dramatic impact. Because slamming his trunk might show his mother how truly and utterly displeased he was with having the forced 'two week vacation'.

"Draco. Do please try to lighten up during your stay. Your visit will be miserable if you go not allow yourself to find joy in our culture," Narcissa tisked at her son, reaching out her fingers to brush the flaxen hair on the back of his head softly like she would do when he was a child and upset. Even now, at twenty-four, it was obvious that his outward display of emotions had remained unchanged.

"I hardly call the Ministry forcing me to go to that compound a visit," he sneered, batting away his mother's hand. Tapping his wand to the top of the trunk, the leather belts magically secured the trunk closed before it shrunk down to no bigger than a matchbook. Pocketing the miniature trunk quickly, Draco turned to face his mother who was pursuing her rouged lips at him disapprovingly. "What?"

"I was hoping your attitude regarding this might have changed since receiving the letter," Narcissa stated plainly, crystal blue eyes scanning her son's face quizzically. "Your father and I have encouraged you to visit for many years now, without much success-"

"Have you considered that perhaps I am not ready to give into the biological need to fuck one person for the rest of my life?" Draco snapped, and almost instantly regretted the tone he had taken when his mother's eyes flashed gold temporarily in a warning for him to mind his tongue. "I...I'm sorry, Mother." Sighing he reached out, taking her hand into his own gently.

"You do understand that if you find your mate, it is hardly a horrible thing." She gave his palm a gentle squeeze in reassurance that this was the right move. Yes, the Ministry might be forcing their comfortable bachelor of a son into attendance, but the possibility of him being able to find his other half was not something she would ever discourage. Not when she knew of the happiness finding her own mate had brought her.

"I'll do my best to contain my indignation should I find them," he replied with the hint of a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss on his mother's cheek, his hand slipping from her motherly hold. "I will see you in two weeks, Mother."

Narcissa returned the gesture, her smudge-proof lips brushing against Draco's high cheekbone, and as he began to make his way to the door, she turned to follow. Crystal blue eyes tracked his movement. "I'll expect your letter in a fortnight then. Although, I must ask you to write sooner than that, as I do need to make arrangements to meet your new bride sooner than later," she called out to him as he reached the doorway, the hint of a smile twinkling in her eyes as she watched him take a heavy breath, and although his back was to her, she could almost guarantee it was partnered with an eye roll, before he continued into the hallway, not bothering with a reply.

Apparating from England to France was not ideal for most wizards or witches. The distance was vast, but he far preferred the risk to an international Portkey. Even though he had never set foot on the sacred grounds of Les Champs D'accouplement, his body knew the way, like a Hippogriff returning to its breeding grounds each century. Biology was able to provide the beacon needed for him to get there.

He landed just outside a set of golden gates. They twisted like living vines, creating a complex pattern of filigree. Beyond them he could make out the tops of a large white tent, several small cottages, and people milling about. He brushed his hands cross his lapel as he stumbled to a standstill, gaining his legs on the soft earth he'd landed on when he heard his name coming from beyond the gate.

"Oh, you must be Drake Malfroy!" came an overly-enthusiastic American accent. Male, if he had to guess by the baritone it held. "Just a sec'. I always struggle with the lock on this thing."

"Draco Malfoy," he corrected, watching the glittering golden gate shutter under the ministrations of the American until a soft 'pop' could be heard and it creaked open. As the gate was pulled open, the compound that was hidden by the massive metal fell into few. Stone-paved walking paths lead the way between a complex maze of cottages, gardens, benches and various other meeting areas. All of which eventually seemed to lead to the massive white tent building that sat atop a small grassy knoll. Draco had not noticed the scent of fresh lavender and spring flowers when he had Apparated in, but now with the full breadth of the gardens in view, it was nearly intoxicating. He had never seen so many blooming flowers before his in life. Sure, the Manor held gardens, but this was boardline outrageous.

"Oh yes, Sorry. My error. Sometimes my handwriting is a bit sloppy. Draco Malfoy." The American came into view. He was a slender man with shoulder-length golden hair that fell in waves around his almost angelic face. His skin was sunkissed, and a light smattering of freckles littered his shoulders and the bridge of his thin nose. He wore no shirt, which was more than slightly unnerving considering he had the body of a Greek god. Lean, yes, but rippled with muscles. For fucks sake, he even had those little v-shaped muscles leading toward his low hung linen pant line. Draco considered himself 110% heterosexual, thank you very much, but even his own cock began to harden at the sight of the man before him. "Well come on in! Welcome to Les Champs D'accouplement." The blonde waved his hand to usher in Draco, who stood practically frozen drinking in his sight.

This was going to be a long fucking two weeks if everyone here happened to look like that. Draco shook off the strange draw he felt for the man and stepped just beyond the gate, his loafers settling into the soft plush grass that lined almost every bit of unpaved earth that was not covered by flowers.

Once Draco had stepped over the threshold, the golden blond man shut the glittering gate once more before turning to him with a large toothy grin. "You're very punctual, Mr. Malfoy," he commented, pulling a black clipboard from beneath his bicep. He fluttered through a couple pages until he seemed to find what he was looking for. "Oh, wonderful. You'll be staying in Alpine Silver. Lovely little bungalow just on the ridge. Great view of the hot spring trail and in the morning you can usually catch a glimpse of the local Mooncalf herd!" he exclaimed excitedly, large purple eyes lighting up at the idea.

"Wonderful," Draco did nothing to shield the man from seeing his eye roll before he checked his wrist watch. He wanted to note the time he stepped foot into this Aphrodite's paradise so he could make sure he had an precise time in which he could leave in 13 days, 23 hours and 59 minutes.

"My name is Alister, I will be your concierge for your visit here, although after today there usually is not much use for me. We're not a very complex operation, you see," the American explained as he held out his hand towards Draco for him to shake. When Draco only looked at it with a raised brow he awkwardly withdrew it. "Oh right... You're the one whose mother wrote us. How stupid, I almost forgot."

Mother wrote them? Merlin's pants, what the bloody hell was that woman thinking? Draco seemed to simmer at Alister's words, his tongue pressing into the tip of his right canine tooth. "And what did she say, exactly?"

Alister shrugged as he began to walk backwards across the plush grass towards the beginning of the paved walkway. "Oh nothing really of interest," he lied, a playful grin tugging up the corners of his lips. "Never you mind about it. Right this way, if you'd please. We're just going up onto the ridge, right next to the large white tent."

Draco's nostrils flared every so slightly. Nevermind? What could his mother have possibly said that would have been of interest to the concierge of this place? Beyond that, what room did he have to judge him? He was a glorified bellhop! Tamping down his quickly rising annoyance, Draco followed Alister in silence through the complex maze of cottages.

Les Champs D'accouplement was large; from what Draco could tell there were easily thirty or so small cottages they passed on their way up the grassy knoll. The front of each cottage seemed to hold its name. There was a collection of Oaks, and Cedars that they passed through before finally making their way into the Alpines. As he walked along the path, Alister would give friendly greetings to various couples that were walking hand in hand around the grounds. Each person was more beautiful than the last, but what surprised him the most was that they all appeared different. No, not all of them possessed the stereotypical blonde hair. They were beauties of every color, race and even every gender. It seemed Veela mating bonds held no regard to sexual preferences, because it appeared his 'next door neighbors' were a young lesbian couple, at least that was what he assumed based off of their porch swing liplock.

"Here we go, Mr. Malfoy, You can head in first if you'd like since it is going to be yours for the next…." Alister's large purple eyes dropped to clipboard once more and his brow furrowed. "Oh. You've only marked two weeks on your reservation. No worries! I'll correct it once I pop back to to my room."

"No, two weeks is quiet right," Draco moved past the confused blonde to open the rickety looking front door to his cottage. Inside was as simple as out. Whatever sort of rustic feel they were going for was achieved, and then some, because in his humble (and unwanted) opinion the hovel looked similar to what he assumed the Weasley's place resembled. Old wooden furniture, an oversized bed against the middle of the room in the back with quilt, a shelf for his trunk next to that, a small bar above it to hang his shirts and trousers so they did not wrinkle. In the corner of the room was a small dining table and two chairs. On the opposite side of that was a single door which Draco hoped lead to the bathroom. It was downright quaint. Under normal circumstances he might have been able to see the sort of charm it had, but now it just felt like a slap in the face. "I won't be here any longer than necessary."

"Oh, wow," Alister remarked as he followed Draco into the bungalow, looking around the room to make sure everything was stocked and cleaned for their newest arrival. "You must feel very confident about finding your mate. That's fantastic. Can you sense their presence already? I knew immediately when Luca arrived. There was something in the air... It smelled divine."

"No. On the contrary. I have no expectations about finding 'my mate' while I am forced to stay here," Draco replied as he pulled the matchbook-sized trunk from his pocket and set it on the shelf before reversing the charm so it would return back to its original size.

"...then why would you leave?" Alister asked incredulously, as if the notion of leaving without finding the one person they were supposed to be with was ludicrous. Surely he understood his chances of finding them would increase tenfold with each day spent inside the gates of Les Champs D'accouplement. Veela from around the world came here to find their other half, and at all times of the year. It wasn't just a one visit per year type of establishment. Sometimes it took longer than two weeks.

"Why would I stay?" Draco glanced back over to Alister, his face carefully void of any emotions. "I am required to stay two weeks by the British Ministry of Magic. If it is believed one must stay until their mate is found, then surely that would have been specified, right?"

"Uh... Well, I mean, I know Ma Reine is working on lengthening the stay requirements but it is really best if you-"

"Well _Ma Reine_ is clearly out of touch with the needs of her people," Draco grumbled, cutting off Alister quickly. "Look, I get it. You like this place. It certainly has a sort of… Appeal to it if you're into the whole floral French cottage vibe. I, however, have a real job waiting for me back in England." Opening his trunk he pulled out a thick stack of magazines he had purchased for the trip, so he might not be entirely bored to tears while he waited the mandatory three hundred and thirty six hours. "My Ministry has designated two weeks as the mandatory sentence for here, and I intend to stay for no more and no less."

Alister nodded slowly, large purple eyes widening to convey to the snappy wizard his intention was more than crystal clear. The letter from his mother had left a word of warning about how, although her son was the apple of her eye, he was dreadfully arrogant and thought spending any time in Les Champs D'accouplement was a complete and utter waste of time. The letter also went on to highlight his favorite meals and scents, so they might prepare some comforts of home for 'her treasure'. Upon reading it through the first time, Alister originally thought it a bad joke from a former guest, but after his name checked off on the upcoming attendee register list sent from the Coalition of Foreign Ministries, he realised how utterly odd the situation was.

A Veela who knowingly did not seek out their mate was one who clearly had no regard for other people in their lives. They were meant to find their partner, and share their lives together. In fact, it was statistically proven that Veela who were bonded to their mate often lived longer, healthier lives than those who never got the chance to find their other half. This reason is one of the many why Les Champs D'accouplement was created centuries ago by the first Veela Queen and her bonded Mate.

"Well, I suppose I shall leave you to your…" Alister's eyes flicked across the stack of magazines Draco unceremoniously dropped onto the foot of his bed, his hands curling around the top of the clipboard as he tucked it against his chest. "...reading. I will come collect you at eight to escort you to your first Couplage. Until then feel free to explore the grounds. There are some hot springs just up the path to the left of your bungalow that have a breathtaking view of the valley at sunset, should you feel so inclined to socialize."

Draco did not bother looking up from the pile of magazines he was sifting through to find one that looked like it might hold his interest for the next two hours. When he felt Alister's eyes on him, waiting for a response he lifted his head and nodded. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you." A force smile played over his face for a moment before he looked back down to the magazines, clearly intent on not taking up the concierge's suggestion.

Alister let out a soft puff of breath, shaking his head as he turned from the bungalow and shut the rickety front door behind him upon his exit, his hand going up to rub against his face in an exasperated fashion as he began down the path. Draco Malfoy was going to be a thorn in his side, Alister could already tell this from their limited interactions.

The two hour wait until Alister's return seemed to go by extraordinarily slow. It wasn't that the articles on The Proper Broomstick Care and The Contrast and Comparison of the Nimbus 3301 vs The Firebolt 360 were not of interest. No, they were well-written articles that Draco found great pleasure in reading, but every so often, as the late summer breeze blew the curtains of his window, Draco caught a scent that made his entire body come alive. He felt tingly from head to toe, his words would cross momentarily and he had begun to feel incredibly warm despite it being no hotter than 75 degrees . When the breeze brushed across his skin for what felt like the umpteeth time, he finally gave up on finishing the magazine and decided to ready himself for the evening.

A cold shower was taken in hopes it could soothe the Veela blush that had crept across his pale skin, and additionally, he used that time to take care of the growing problem in his trousers. He had always thought more clearly after a good wank, and tonight was no exception. It did little to calm what he knew to be his Veela drive, but it did put a small dampener on the flame, as if bringing the urges to a slow simmer.

Dressing in a pair of gray tweed trousers, and a white button down left untucked with the collar loose to allow the soft breeze to cool his warmed skin, Draco checked his wristwatch once more before heading outside to wait on his porch for Alister.

"You might consider changing, Mr. Malfoy," The American called to Draco as he walked down the path. He was sans clipboard this time, his long golden hair pulled back in a low bun on the base of his neck and he wore just a pair of torn jeans low on his lips. Draco could not help but notice that yet again, the man wore no shoes, which slightly unnerved him for some inexplicable reason.

"I am dressed to my comfort level, Alister," the blonde wizard explained, looking down at his outfit before up to the concierge. Draco felt, in his opinion, entirely underdressed already. This was boardline casual for him, for Merlin's sake, he had cuffed his pant legs to his ankles, exposing his entire shoe. Something his mother had called a 'boat shoe' when he had first purchased them. They were comfortable, but entirely too casual for his normal style.

"The dress code for Couplague is far more… casual than what you've chosen," Alister tried to explain as he eyed the wizard carefully.

"This is casual."

"Oh… well in that case," Alister snickered slightly before making a sweeping gesture in front of him with an upturned palm. "Right this way, Mr. Malfoy."

The pair began down the paved path in near silence. It appeared as if the other guests of Les Champs D'accouplement were already inside the main white tent. Draco could hear the soft sound of melodic string music as they approached, and was immediately thankful that whoever had selected the background music for whatever they were about to walk into at least had some taste. As they approached the front set of doors to the tent, Alister began to slow his pace.

"I just want to remind you that since it is your first night attending Couplage, you are not really expected to participate unless you want. We know it can be a lot to take in, especially your first time," Alister explained.

"Participate? What do you mean participate?" Draco questioned, lifting a finely manicured brow at Alister before he looked over to the set of double doors, craning his next to see if he could make out anything past the frosted glass. "There's not like...fucking board games or something inside? Far be it from me to tell you all how to run this place, but exploding snap or wizards chess is not exactly my idea of a great evening."

This time, Alister did not hide his laughter, letting out a full, throaty chuckle at Draco as he walked the few paces up to the door and he opened it up for them. "Wow… You really must have not done any research before arriving here… Just… well, let's just say that as riveting as Candyland and Chutes & Ladders might be, we do not make habit of playing board games while Couplage is occuring."

Chutes & what? Draco's head snapped toward Alister, eyes narrowing in confusion at the American. Just as he was about to open his mouth to question what the fuck Candyland was, the lull of music from inside the tent overtook his sense, and before he could realise what was happening, his feet began to carry him into the tent.

They entered a small foyer. It looked like on either side of the narrow path that lead to the silk-covered entrance to the main tent was lined with magically lit candles that danced with every color flame possible, even quite a few shades he could not name off the top of his head. The opening to the tent was draped with multi-hued silks as well from from the ceiling to floor. Beyond them he could make out the low lighting inside, and the occasional shape of what he assumed were people walking about.

Alister moved first, brushing past him and in past the silks with zero hesitation, his bare feet padding against the soft carpeting that lined the floor.

Draco followed. For a moment he felt stupefied by the sheer presences of whatever was beyond the silks. The scent was heady and thick, like he could almost see the Veela pheromones that were clearly present in this building. It smelt nearly sickening sweet and caused his stomach to clench. The feverish blush he had been fighting all evening returned in full force, setting his skin aflame and making his clothes suddenly feel like sandpaper as they rubbed against him. So this was why Alister said he was overdressed. He could have been a little more fucking specific. Reaching up to undo the first three buttons of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves, Draco moved through the foyer and past the silks which felt a little more bearable against his glowing skin.

The room was more dimly lit than he had thought, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to what was occuring around him, and as the room began to materialize, Draco's breath caught in his throat, his nostrils flaring just slightly in response.

The room was massive, easily the size of the Great Hall, with multiple alcoves on each side of the rectangular room. Around the main part of the room were small groupings of sofas, chairs, tables and settees. Which, by itself did not inspire the lust that was suddenly coursing through his veins. It was the fact that scattered about on the pods of furniture and up against the walls of the tent were very naked (or in various states of undress) couples who were using the sofas, chairs, tables and settees as props to aid their lovemaking. Draco had just unknowingly walked into, for lack of a better term, a Veela Orgy.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco's eyes must have been the size of quaffles, or at least that's how it felt as he surveyed the room. Steely irises fluttered around the room as the heady scent of Veela pheromones and sweat took over his senses. This place was supposed to be sacred, a Veela homage, not a fucking sex club. His parents had spoken of its beauty; surely this was not what they had meant. His hand in his front trouser pocket moved to reposition his rapidly hardening cock through the thin material, hoping to conceal the effects the lust-filled air was having on his body. He was forced to come to Les Champs D'accouplement but he would be damned if he let his biology dictate how he felt.

His free hand lifted to his collar and he carefully worked to loosen more buttons of his oxford. His shirt had suddenly felt too tight, like it was constricting the blood from flowing properly to his brain. Beyond that it was sweltering in here, and although he could not be certain, he had a feeling that it was not because of the air conditioning being turned off. The amount of Veela scent in the air was making it almost noxious. His internal temperature seemed to skyrocket as a result. The Veela blush he had worked so hard to keep from his cheeks since passing through the gates this afternoon returned with a fever that had already begun to reach its winding tendrils down his neck. His adam's apple bobbed as he audibly gulped, and he cast his eyes to the floor before beginning to move down the steps leading into the sunken room.

From his vantage point only moments before, he could spot his concierge, Alister, in the middle of the room, his golden hair almost glittering in the low light like some obnoxious golden griffin in a sea of flesh. Draco tried his best to keep his self-imposed blinders up as he wound his way across the room, careful to avoid disrupting any of the participants of the Couplage occuring around him.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here?" Draco hissed as he approached his concierge, who had claimed the lap of some brunette. It was only then, in the low light, that he could make out the iridescent shimmer of two healed puncture wounds on Alister's neck that seemed to match a set on the olive skin of the brunette he was sitting upon. Draco knew instantly what that meant, for his own parents bore a similar mark. They were bound. Two mates who had found one another and claimed each other as their other half.

Alister smirked, knowing full well the wizard had not been expecting the scene surrounding him when he entered the tent. For coming from the Malfoy line of Veela, Alister had to admit Draco seemed at odds with his heritage and was quite surprised the wizard had not done an ounce of research into what coming here meant. His own parents had bonded on these hallowed grounds after meeting by happenstance at school. Surely he had to have been curious as a boy at one point to look into what it meant. Alister shrugged at Draco, his fingers carding through his mate's clipped russet locks, letting soft hair slip betwixt his fingers. "Clearly not board games," the concierge teased.

Draco's jaw set at Alister's sarcastic reply, his hands coming to rest on the back of the couch he stood in front and he leaned over the furniture, drawing himself closer toward the blonde. "No shit? You mean to tell me Exploding Snap's newest addition does not include shoving your cock in someone's mouth?" he questioned as he lifted his hand to gesture towards a couple to the right of the seating area Alister and his mate had claimed.

A man with short clipped curls and dark skin was lounging back on a plush velvet chaise lounge, his hands behind his neck and legs spread wide so his feet touched the floor on either side of the furniture, while a beautiful redhead with alabaster skin busied herself between his parted thighs. Her lips were thinned, stretch wide to accommodate the girth of the man's cock as she bobbed her head in his lap, the length of his cock disappearing and reappearing like some sort of parlor trick, considering the size of the man's equipment. There was no possible way she could do it without the aid of a little Muscle Relaxing spell, Draco was certain of that.

Alister glanced over to the couple before back to Draco, and all sense of torturing the snippy man vanished when he noticed the distress in his steely eyes. He'd always had a soft spot for the lost and hopeless; perhaps that was his curse, but he liked to think of it as a calling. "Christ, you're utterly hopeless. Aren't you?" the American laughed, patting his lover's arm until the brunette loosened his hold. Alister slipped from his lap to sit in the open seat next to him and he gestured to the empty couch Draco was leaning over. "So you really have no idea what's going on?"

Taking the cue, Draco moved around the couch and sat across from Alister and his mate. His legs crossed over one another at the knee as he settled into the uncomfortable couch, his hands folding in his lap in hopes of hiding his blatant erection that throbbed through his trousers. What's going on? Well, Draco might not be an expert of Veela customs, but it was pretty fucking obvious what was happening. "Well, clearly it's some sort of sex club."

"What?" Alister questioned through laughter, his brows shooting up to his hairline in near disbelief. "This...This isn't a sex club, Mr. Malfoy."

"Really? Because from what I can see it looks like a giant fucking orgy," Draco replied flatly as he removed the cufflinks from the cuffs of his shirt and tucked them into his pocket before he began to roll his sleeves up his arms as the heat began to overtake him once again.

"Well… I mean, I suppose you could call it that but technically speaking an orgy, by definition, is when everyone is fucking each other as a large group. We clearly have defined couples around the room who pose no interest in sharing their partners," Alister explained. "We like to think of this as a way for the unbound to release some of their energy in a safe, productive environment… and with a partner who can take the uh…force of their Veela magic. But don't worry, we save the orgies for Friday nights if that is your interest," he teased, winking playfully at him.

"Force of their Veela magic?" Draco repeated, lifting a thin brow to the American as he ignored his playful banter. Now was not the time to joke. This consuming sexual energy was overpowering, surely Alister felt it too? Or perhaps he had grown accustomed to its presence since he worked here. Draco could only assume that he had to be somewhat immune to by now, or else Alister would have to walk around in a constant state of arousal.

"Yes… Excuse me for being frank, but have you had a sexual partner before Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco's mind came to a screeching halt at the question and he nearly sputtered before breaking into a condescending laughter. "Are you fucking kidding? Of course I have. What kind of a stupid question is that? I've shagged several witches, not that it's any of your business," Draco spat, straightening his spine as he smoothed out his shirt at the asinine question.

"Well, then surely you understand the type of precautions you had to take in order to ensure your partner was not harmed," Alister said, carefully folding his hands over his crossed legs, not giving in to Draco's clipped tone that seemed to beg to be argued with.

Draco shifted on the couch. He was far from a prude, but retelling his sexual experiences with a complete stranger was not something he was keen on doing under any sort of circumstances, and certainly not when trapped in a room while surrounded by Veela mating. "Yes, there is some self-restraint, but certainly not something that was uncontrollable."

"Wouldn't it be nice though… To not have to hold back?" Alister pressed. "To really, truly, give in to your urges and ravish your partner thoroughly? To not fear harming them?"

Draco let his eyes drift away from Alister, turning his attention to the couple to their left as a means of avoiding answering the question, because if forced, he would agree. It would be nice not to have to hold back, to not have to worry about if he was too rough, or too quick. To not worry about slipping into a frenzy each time shagged, or worry about how if he did not find a woman to grace his bed after a while then he would crave it more. Like a man in a desert seeking water to quench his thirst, he knew deep down that the countless witches he'd been with were bandaids over an axe wound. He needed his mate.

Pushing away those thoughts, his eyes came to land on a couple he had seen earlier as Alister led him to his cottage. A beautiful olive-skinned brunette, with legs that seemed to go on for kilometers and short clipped hair, and a petite blonde with full round breasts and full lips. The brunette was sitting in an armchair, her long lean legs draped over each arm. Between her parted thighs the petite blonde kneeled on the soft floor, her head blocking his view of what he could only assume was an absolutely sopping wet pussy based off the way the brunette writhed and moaned. Her back arched off the couch like it was on fire, pushing her small perky breasts into the air. Her nipples were dark and erect, begging to be sampled.

Draco's eyes ran the plains of her stomach down to the blond between her thighs, and he let them drop to the blonde's round bottom. A little smaller than he generally preferred, but he could see the appeal. It was then the blonde moved, her mouth lifting from the brunette's mons, earning a loud whimper in neglect from the brunette. The blonde's hand stroked her lover's thighs as soft words seemed soothe her need. Slowly the blonde's hands made their way up the brunette's thighs in soft teasing strokes until they reached the apex. Gently parting her lover's folds with her thumb and index finger, she exposed the glistening, dusty pink pussy to the room. Draco inhaled sharply, his cock throbbing in response as he watched with held breath as the blonde carefully teased the brunette's clit, swirling her index finger around her pleasure center until she was a trembling mess. Index and middle finger moved in unison, dropping slowly to stroke against her core, which seemed to be spasming with a feeble attempt to drag the fingers inside. The brunette was almost delirious with need, her head lulled back, fingers curled into the arms of the chair to the point where Draco was sure she was clawing holes in the furniture. His teeth bit into his bottom lip, and he watched as the blonde slowly eased her fingers into her lover's cunt. A slow and steady pace was set; it was clearly not a sprint for these ladies. No, this marathon they had just begun was something the blonde intended on dragging out for her lover.

"So… everyone who is with a partner is bonded?" Draco finally asked, glancing away from the women and back over to Alister when the display became too much to handle. If his cock was going to get any harder the damn thing might snap in two. Uncrossing his legs, he provided his cock the much-needed breathing room and he reached down to adjust himself, no longer caring who saw.

"Hardly, most of them are just…" Alister lifted his purple eyes toward the ceiling as he tried to find the right words he wanted to convey. People were here to find their mate, to be around others like themselves, but that did not mean they couldn't enjoy life until they happened upon their other half, right? "...living in the moment, I suppose."

Living in the moment? What sort of crap was that? This wasn't a cheesy romance novel his mother read, this was his fucking life. He had been forced to come here for two weeks under the pretense of finding his mate. If he had wanted to find a room full of deviant persons, he could have just spent the night in London. "Isn't the point of this supposed to be finding your mate?"

Alister laughed, glancing to his own mate to give him a look of 'this fucking guy' before looking back to Draco, purple eyes dancing with amusement. "Of course it is. That is why Les Champs D'accouplement came to be. But that doesn't mean you cannot have fun while you wait. Look, Mr. Malfoy, I understand this is more than you were expecting-"

"You can say that again," Draco murmured under his breath.

"-but I think you might find your _mandated two week stay_ more enjoyable if you tried to relax a bit. Why don't you go explore the tent, see if you come across something you like. At least, have a drink. The bar is on the far wall." Alister lifted a hand to gesture to their left before reaching behind his head to pull his golden hair free from the confines of the black elastic band.

A drink didn't sound half bad, Draco had to admit. Especially since the temperature in the room had felt like it was as a slow and steady incline since he had entered. He looked away from Alister, glancing back to the two women he had watched earlier as he debated making his way through the room to find where the supposed bar lay.

The brunette was close; her thighs trembled, dancing on the edge of the furniture as she fought the involuntary need to contract every muscle in her body. The blonde's pace had picked up since he had looked away earlier. Her fingers pumped quickly and the thumb of her other hand strummed against her clit in time with her pace. Draco watched as the brunette finally tumbled over the edge. Her painted toes curling, her body shaking and her head fell back. She looked like she had never felt release so powerful. And just when he thought he'd seen it all, his eyes were drawn to the blonde, who continue to coax her fingers though the brunettes folds as her essence dripped out of her lips in a stream.

"Fuck this," Draco muttered. Pushing up from the couch his hand rose to brush through his platinum hair. This was too much, the sound, the smell, it was over powering his senses and what little self control he had clung to was quickly slipping away. As he moved towards the back of the tent, he carefully dodged the seating areas, his eyes glued to the far wall as the noises of couples making love-or just fucking-deafened the world around him. The string music he had heard earlier seemed lost in the moans and wails of passion.

The unbearable heat had overtaken his senses by the time he found the bar. His fingers lifted to loosen three more buttons on his shirt, leaving it closed from the bottom of his sternum down to where the shirt was tucked into his trousers. The air was stifling in here, thick with Veela scent and sweat. Surely somewhere in this fucking tent there had to be a bleeding window. He was going to be sure to seek that out once he'd poured himself a nice stiff drink to help him through the night.

Draco beelined his path to the bartop, and as he reached for a tumbler on the corner of the table something hit him. It felt like he had just slammed into the goal post on the Quidditch pitch at full speed. All of the air immediately evacuated his lungs and he clutched the table for support as his legs gave way. Steely eyes shut tight until the initial impact faded and a gasping breath was taken, but instead of the thick pheromone-filled air he had breathed only moments ago, his lungs filled with a new scent. Spring, a fresh meadow, wildflowers, and something decidedly musky. Like an oak-aged fine wine. His mouth instantly began to water, and as his eyes slowly opened, pupils blown wide with desire, only one thought rang through his brain. It drowned the thoughts he had of leaving immediately. His mate… they were here.

Gaining his footing, Draco's head whipped around the room as he tried to discern the exact location this intoxicating smell was wafting from. He could feel his pulse beat fast and hard, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head he felt alive, ready to claim whoever this mate might be. Male, female, at this point the gender of them did not matter because there was only one goal in mind. He had to find this person and make them his. He needed to bury his cock into them until his seed claimed the inside of their body like his mouth and bite would claim the outside.

In the back corner of the room, several feet from where Draco stood was an alcove. Sashes of the deepest purple and silver hid the view of who lay inside, but Draco knew immediately his mate lay in there, beyond the soft silks, waiting for him. Abandoning his original plan of a drink he moved quickly and determinedly to the alcove, his hand pushing through the fabric as he slipped into inside.

His mate's scent was nearly overpowering in here; the air, thick, heady and pungent. Their fertility on display. An uncontrollable growl left the back of his throat as he drank in the scent like a greedy man, thirsty for more before he'd even had a taste. He shouldered past a nearly naked man who was standing near the edge of a small ledge. It appeared the recess that his mate was in sunk into the floor; only a single step was needed until a soft carpeting turned into a thick pillow-like mattress.

And there, in the middle of the mattress his mate. She did not need to utter a word to him for him to know she was his. Her entire being was made for him, he knew this instantly. She was laying on her back, her legs bent at the knee and thighs parted to make room for a thick witch who was happily burying her tongue in her cunt. At her full breasts, a man who lapped at her beautifully pink nipples. He seemed to be alternating between sucking on them and nibbling, causing her to arch and whimper in response. Her arms were wound around one more person, a dark skinned man whose hands roamed across the soft expanse of her abdomen, feeling his way over her as their mouths locked in a passionate kiss.

Draco watched for a moment, drunk off the sight of his mate being worshipped by three other people. The way she rolled her hips against the woman's mouth, riding her tongue as if it was a cock, aching to let it reach deeper into her slick folds. The way her breasts heaved with each shaky breath she took as her moans filled the alcove like a siren's song. The way her hand snaked across the dark skinned man's body until it reached between his legs to grab the wizard's cock, and her small fist began to pump up and down his shaft, her thumb sweeping across the weeping tip as she brought pleasure to the man and suddenly, it was as if Draco snapped from his stupor.

This was his mate, HIS other half and these people… these people would never be able to give to her what she deserved. The pleasure, or the devotion. She was his, and they… they needed to leave. His fists clenched at his side, his short nails digging into palms as he set his jaw, and just as his mouth opened to tell them to leave, his mate's mouth broke away from the man's. Her head pressed back into the pillowed mattress as she climaxed, her entire body trembling with built up energy that seemed to overflow out of her. He could feel the tidal wave of pleasure exude from her body, and he wasn't certain if it was just him, or everyone else could feel it too, because they all seem to cease their worship of her body as she rode out the wave of her pleasure.

Draco should have been scared just by the fact alone, but it seemed lost on him as his eyes landed on her face. He'd grown up with her since they were eleven years old, and while thirteen years can change so much about a person, he would recognize her anywhere. Hermione Granger. His fucking mate was Hermione Granger. His stomach clenched, and he gulped down the feelings of lust to make way for confusion. There was no fucking way this could be. She was… she was a Muggleborn! How could she even fucking be here, let alone be his mate? No, this couldn't be.

Draco took a step back, his loafers sinking against the soft carpeting as he began to make his retreat. There was no possible way she was his match! They had spent years in that drafty castle together in the highlands and there was never a draw. Beyond that their past was not that of old friends. No, there was no way this match was going to fit, but it was then Hermione's eyes opened.

Big, beautiful chocolate brown, so rich it was as if he could pour them over ice cream and eat them. Her pupils were still blown wide with insatiable desire that burned down to her core. The people pleasuring her would never be able to snuff that fire, she had to know this. It was only he who would be able to reach those depth within her soul. Her nose twitched ever so slightly, causing the softest of wrinkles before her head rolled across the mattress and those big chocolate eyes were on him. Instead of fear, or apprehension, all he could see was longing so clearly etched upon her face that his heart nearly stopped beating. And it was in that moment, what felt like two seconds after he had decided to flee, that Draco knew there was no fighting this.


	3. Chapter 3

… _.four years prior…._

Despite knowing the room's temperature was cooled, Hermione felt as if her skin was ablaze. The once soft cotton of her dress grated like sandpaper against her skin. The elastic of her knickers pressed a little too hard against the sensitive skin on her hips and thighs. Each day this illness she'd been battling for what felt like months only seemed to worsen; something was wrong with her. She'd spent countless hours pouring over educational texts and biographies of wizards and witches who had contracted illnesses from adventures or curses but none seemed to fit what she was experiencing.

The uneasiness she felt already seemed amplified now. Upon arrival to the Institute for Research on Magical Maladies and Creature Genetics she was taken into a clean room. No windows, or pictures graced the blinding white walls. No comfortable couches or chaise lounges were there to sit upon. Instead there was a single wooden chair in front of a rectangular shaped table and on the other said were five more identical chairs. The receptionist instructed her to sit before fitting her with a blindfold. "W-Why am I blindfolded?" Hermione stammered, her fingers lifting to brush against the material and she instantly flinched. She knew it was not possible, but the fabric felt like thorns. Sharp and penetrating, as if it could cause her to bleed if she brushed her fingers over it once more.

"Protocol, Miss Granger," the elderly witch replied, her voice thick with sympathy as she moved to the other side of the table to lay down notepads and self inking quills for the healers. "They'll be along any moment now. Just try to remain calm. The interview will go quicker if you're honest with them, my dear."

Honest with them? Who the fuck would lie? This was her last resort. Her last viable option before she sequestered herself to live a miserable life of isolation because she couldn't take the pain of being in this constant state of discomfort any more.

She heard the door open once more, and the soft clicking of the receptionist disappeared out of the nearly empty room while new footsteps entered. There were so many different pairs, each noise echoing loudly around the walls that she had to reach up and cover her ears as the Healers took their seats cross from her. The sound of the chairs screeching against the tiled floor sent shivers down her spine and a sharp throb directly into her brain.

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger. I know this must be uncomfortable for you, so we will try to make this as quick as possible," a soft melodic voice let her know. Female. Elderly. It reminded her of the way Professor McGonagall spoke. The cadence was so similar it was almost eerie, but instead of the thick Scottish accent, a high German tone clipped the words.

"Thank you," Hermione breathed a reply, her hands folding awkwardly in her lap as she shifted in the hard wooden chair to get comfortable. Her bare thighs brushed against one another as she moved, causing the throbbing ache in her core to return like a tidal wave crashing into the side of a cliff. Her blush, she was sure, deepened as the nearly overwhelming need for release rippled across the surface of her body and soul. Her fingers curled slightly as they trembled through the aftershocks, her thighs pressing tightly together to combat her rising need.

"We were just reviewing your paperwork, Miss Granger and we have some follow up questions," the German healer began, and the sound of her moving paperwork around filled the silent room. "Ah yes. We seen you've mentioned episodes of blacking out. Can you please explain these occurrences to us?"

Hermione nodded nervously. "I...I would...um... I would just black out and wake up in strange places," she stammered, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Surely they did not need to know every detail right?

"Please elaborate Miss Granger. We need you to be as thorough as possible for us to made a sound assessment of your ailments. Perhaps start with the first time it occured."

Fuck. This was going to look bad, she knew. Golden Girl of the Ministry turned crazed sex deviant overnight, but it wasn't that simple. She didn't… she didn't ASK for that to happen. Frankly, she couldn't even remember it happening. It was like her body would… make her do things against her will. Letting out a shaky breath in hopes of releasing some of her apprehension, she continued, "I was on my way home from work and I decided to walk through the Alley-er...Diagon Alley. I only made it to just outside Madam Malkin's when… when everything disappeared. I got tunnel vision, and then...then the world went black…" She bit her bottom lip as the memories of the repeated instances flooded back. The burning heat that overtook her as she was overcome whatever the hell was going on, her skin felt like it was the surface of the sun. Like nothing would cool it enough to make her better until everything simply vanished. "... I would wake up the next day in other people's flats… Strangers."

She could hear the sound of multiple quills scratching against the notebooks the receptionist had laid out, and soft murmurs. Only a couple words could be pulled from their private exchange between the healers.

"-symptomatic-"

"-estrus-"

"-frenzy-"

After several seconds, the German Healer cleared her throat to silence her colleagues. "Are you able to remember anything about the episodes in question? Anything at all?"

"Not from the first couple. It's all black. Foggy. I can remember… flashes from others. Like a broken film reel. I'd…" Hermione gulped, shifting on the hard chair once more in discomfort as the wood bit into the backs of her thighs. "We would engage in… in the act of sexual congress several times until the next morning."

"And once you woke from the, what you referred to as, fog?" the healer pressed as her quill moved quickly across the notepad, scratching loudly in the otherwise silent room.

"I'd leave! I was… I was mortified. I… I'm not that type of woman. I don't just sleep with random strangers," she tried to explain, her brow furrowing with indignation. This was not her normal. Before these episodes began she had only been with two sexual partners in her life!

"My apologies Miss Granger. I was not questioning your morality. Simply curious of the reaction you had to finding yourself there," the healer explained hastily, her quill pausing for a single beat on the notepad before she continued. "How many times has this occurred? The blacking out and waking up with an unfamiliar person?"

Hermione's cheeks would have blazed red if it weren't for the deep flush already present. An unfamiliar person. Ha! What a pleasant way of saying she's fucked complete strangers. "I don't know," she lied, teeth beginning to worry the corner of her bottom lip.

"Please give us an estimate, Miss Granger," Came a thick Spanish baritone that plucked against the strings of desire that wound so tightly around her being. Her knickers nearly instantly flooded with her need.

In this moment, she would do anything if that healer spoke again. Perhaps if she complied he could alleviate her growing ache. "...thirty… maybe forty times," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

It started again, the hurried whispers between the group, the scratching of quills, except this time her mind was still thudding so loudly with lust that she could not make out any of their words. Just a single thought kept running through her head, like a broken record: Release… she needed to find release now more than ever.

"How long has this been occuring, Miss Granger?" the German Healer spoke over her colleagues, who instantly ceased their own conversations.

"Two months… maybe a bit longer. They weren't always that frequent… the blackouts," Hermione explained with a trembling voice as she picked at her thumbnail, trying to pull her mind out of her self-induced fog. "But since the fever's started… it's been nearly every day."

"And when did these fevers start?"

"About three weeks ago."

"Miss Granger. You mentioned an incident at work in your paperwork. The one that you claim drove you to seek us out. Can you please give us more details on that incident?" A new healer spoke, this time a familiar accent. English, or perhaps Welsh. She could not place exactly where on the map they were from in the United Kingdom but they were definitely from home.

Hermione must have visibly relaxed when their discussion moved away from her sudden string of sexual proclivities, because the sound of the quills scratching hurried notes began again. "Um. Sure. I was…" A heavy sigh was given as she squeezed her eyes closed beneath the blindfold, trying to pull the details of the incident in question to the front of her mind. "I was sitting at my desk going over a memo for the Ministry. We were releasing the latest judicial update on the, uh… the bonding rights for Centaurs, Vampires, Werewolves and Veela," she explained, trying to pull the small details she could from her work, because at least during what had become the worst time in her life she had still been doing something to make a difference. "I share an office with another witch in my unit… Andrellius and… gods this sounds so… so stupid."

"Quite the opposite, Miss Granger. This is vital to our assessment. Please, continue," the English Healter requested.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione lifted her right hand and placed it on the side of her neck so her fingertips pushed into the pressure points on the back of her neck to help calm her down. "Right… Sorry. Uh... She kept tapping her nails on the desk. I'd asked her to stop numerous times. It's just… sometimes I get these awful headaches. It's like the world's noise is amplified and I just can't shake it. It's all I can focus on, and she just… kept… tapping. I just… snapped."

"Snapped how?"

"I was so furious. I mean, how could she be so inconsiderate? I… I'm normally a very level-headed witch, honest. But I just could not take the incessant drum of her fingers anymore. I got up from my desk and… and started throwing things." Hermione winced a little at the memory of multiple inkwells exploding as they collided with Andi's side of the shared office space. "Next thing I knew, my skin started tingling all over. The fever was already there, so I was hot, but this was different. It… it itched almost. Like there was something beneath it, and then the next thing I knew I… I…" Hermione paused, struggling to find the words that would best explain the events of that day.

"Phased?" The German healer supplied for her.

Such a clinical explanation for this. Phased. Sure, she phased. She sprouted fucking feathers and her nails grew into a razor-like state. She did not even know it was happening until Andi's scream of terror pulled her from her rage and almost instantly the feathers and claws vanished as dread set in on Hermione. That was the day she realised there had to be something terribly wrong with her. "...yes."

"Miss Granger, were you aware of your veela heritage?" The German healer questioned,and the sound of her quill being dropped onto the table's surface seemed to echo off the walls as her question repeated in Hermione's mind like an echo in a cavern.

Veela heritage? They had to be joking… right? There was no possible way! "I'm sorry, y-you must be mistaken. I'm-"

"Muggleborn. Yes we know, we reviewed your chart. When you arrived at the facility this morning you gave a blood sample. The results were undeniable. Your DNA analysis revealed you are a descendent of a full-blooded Veela. Secondary genetic indicators appear as though it is a paternal inheritance," the healer explained frankly, giving her no time to processes this news before continuing. "You are aware that Veela do not solely mate with wizards or witches, right? One presenting Veela heritage does not mean that one also possess the ability to use magic."

"Well. I mean yes, fundamentally that is the case, but the circumstances are very rare. I mean it-"

"Considering it was a possibility, no matter how rare, did you not think to test yourself once you started presenting symptoms of estrus?" the Spanish healer questioned, once again sending her body humming with unfulfilled desire.

"No. I… I didn't know what was going on! I-I thought I was just… I don't… sick?" Hermione tried to explain, leaning forward in the hard wooden chair as her eagerness for them to understand, combined with the throbbing ache between her thighs, became too unbearable. She just needed their help, she couldn't live her life feeling like this. Veela heritage or not. She could feel the flush creep down across her chest, reddening her skin in its wake as heat began to envelope her body. "Can you please help… I just… I can't do this anymore. Please help me," she begged, and just then the sound of the air conditioning kicked on in the room, the tell-all hum of the machine buzzing to life as it pushed a blast of cold air through. An involuntary shiver ran through her as she felt the breeze from the artificial air run across her pressed thighs and under her sundress, cooling the burning sensation she felt for just a moment. A moan tumbled from her lips before she could prevent it, her teeth plucking her bottom lip at the momentary reprieve from the ache.

The panel of Healers seemed to gasp at her response. And suddenly the sound of chairs scraping could be heard before hurried footsteps passed her to leave the room. Her heart began to race at the sound of the heavy door leading into the door shut with a responding snap. What were they doing!? Why were they leaving!?

"Thank you for your time today, Miss Granger. This is all we will be needing," the German healer's tone was almost sympathetic as she moved around the desk, taking cautious, careful steps towards the door. Making sure to leave plenty of space between her and Hermione. "You may remove your blindfold once we leave the room. Please wait here for an escort. He will be assisting your travel to Les Champs D'accouplement."

Hermione's French was rusty, at best, but she could be certain she knew what the Healer had said. The mating fields. "W-What? Where… where am I going? Why am I not staying here? They said you would be able to help! You'd be able to fix this."

The Healer laughed; her voice was already behind where Hermione sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair, perched on the edge, ready to pounce and plead her case. "You'll be going home, for all intents and purposes. Miss Granger, there is nothing for us to fix. What you're experiencing is completely natural. I understand it could be frightening but many before you have lived through their first Estrus. The good news is that you will find that your fever will begin to subside after your first Couplage."

Hermione reached behind her, fingers tugging at the sandpaperlike ribbons of the blindfold. "What do you mean? What is… is Couplage?! You're supposed to be helping me, not giving me more unanswered questions," she snapped, yanking the material away from her face and tossing it to the floor. Chocolate brown eyes blinked through the bright light as the blurriness began to fade, but just as she turned to look at the Healer, to demand she get answers to her questions, the sound of the heavy door behind her clicked into place and Hermione knew that once again, she was entirely alone.

She had been at Les Champs D'accouplement for less than eight hours before the next Couplage was taking place. Her concierge, Alister, was polite enough to give her a very basic rundown of what the purpose of Les Champs D'accouplement was and its very limited history. Thankfully, she did make him promise to return with books on the written ancestral accounts of Veela since the legitimacy of this place. She knew not everyone held a panache for reading, but surely there had to be come context to what this place meant to Veela around the globe.

The moment she had set foot beyond the golden glittery gates, the unbearable fever she had felt began to simmer. It was still very present, but seemed to dull. Instead of the roaring inferno she had felt for the past week, it was a crackling fire. The flames still licking up her back from her aching core. It was as if the air from the French wildflowers calmed her ache. She had spent the better part of the evening sitting on the porch of her cottage in the setting sun, soaking up the last few rays as she picked at the plate of fruits and cheeses Alister had brought her from the main tent.

When the time arrived for her to make her way along the footpath to figure out what this Couplage was all about, she couldn't help but feel a nervous energy bubble beneath her surface. The Healers said it would diminish her fever, but how quickly would she be free of this curse? How soon could she return to work? These unanswered questions swirled in her mind as she made her way to the white tent at the top of the hill. The soft autumn breeze fluttered her sundress around her thighs, and she could feel the muted blossom of pink on her cheeks begin to deepen.

With her hand on the door handle of the white tent, she hesitated. It was not fear, nor desire, that caused her to stop, but rather an unexplainable calling. This melodic pulse began in the center of her chest the moment she touched the door handle and was growing stronger with every beat. She was supposed to be here, this was her home. Not England, not the tiny little flat above Flourish and Blotts. No, this place. Les Champs D'accouplement was her home. And inside this tent were her people.

She pulled the door open and was greeted by the heady scent of Veela pheromones that almost seemed visible in the air. Chocolate brown eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled deeply, unable to help herself. She could feel her body relax; the tension she had been holding in her shoulders for so long seemed to melt away, and when she opened her eyes once more her pupils were blown wide.

She moved as if in a trace, pushing through the curtain of fabric separating herself from the main room of the tent and as she cleared the top landing of the room her body released an unexplainable burst of magick in time with her heartbeat. She could feel the bolt of energy run down her fingertips and toes and make a shockwave on the floor. And like the rolling tide, as this shockwave reverberated through the room the everyone inside froze, as if they could feel this exact same invisible pull she had felt.

She could feel what felt like fifty sets of eyes on her skin, running the length of her frame, taking her in, trying to determine what sort of magick had just escaped from her body. Her body, involuntarily it seemed, pushed her own pheromones into the air. The lymph nodes on either side of her neck began to throb, as if working overtime to push her own scent into the room, trying to overpower the rest, and one by one, the people in the room began to draw closer to her, like a moth drawn to a flame.

Hermione watched the crowd, torn between confusion and fear, and she stood a single step back, her hand moving to the banister to her right to keep herself from stumbling as she looked over the crowd.

Alister, the only familiar face in a sea of strangers, pushed through the crowd. His purple eyes held a determination in them that appeared almost feral. He snaked his body through the throng of people and made his way up the small flight of stairs leading up to the foyer, taking two at a time until he reached Hermione. His golden hair hung in his face, his own cheeks flushed with what she now knew to be Veela fever. His beautiful purple irises scanned her face for a moment, as if studying her for some sort of clue before he kneeled down at her feet. Bending low, his lips pressed into the tops of her bare feet and her skin burst to life, tingling once more, but not like it had in her office. No, this was different. This tingle was like the string of a guitar that was strummed. It felt… incredible. Like if he kept doing it, kept kissing, he might be able to put out the fight inside of her.

But he did not kiss her feet more than once, to her disappointment. Instead, his head craned up, looking into her shocked face, and it was then Hermione noticed his own eyes were blown wide. "Ma Reine," he whispered, the softest hint of a smile tugging on his lips. "You've come home."


	4. Chapter 4

A deep growl erupted from his throat as slowly he moved into the sunken alcove, all thoughts of turning tail vanishing from his mind the moment her eyes found his. Draco carefully slipped out of his loafers as he descended the three stairs to the mattress, letting his bare feet sink into the soft pillow top. Silver eyes narrowed on the two men and women who still hovered around his mate-their queen, their hands stroking, plucking, and ravishing her body. "Move." His voice was thick and husky, almost unrecognizable even to his own hears. The ancient magic that called him to her-his mate-Hermione was woven into his words, and as the command was given a shockwave rolled off of his body, cutting across the small room and slamming into the trio as well as the people watching. It was a warning, that she was his and nobody else was going to touch her ever again.

The men backed off instantly, wide eyes on the blonde wizard as he began to serpentine his way towards the witch who lay bare in the middle of the mattress, arching her spine off the soft swaths of fabric at the sudden loss of her entourage. The woman hesitated between Hermione's thighs, her mouth still firmly attached to Hermione's cunt, pleasing her queen until another shockwave of magic sent her scrambling away.

Hermione lifted her head off the mattress, long beautiful curls cascading down her back as she sat up. Half-lidded widened in confusion as she watched the wizard she knew far too well slip his crumbled oxford from his shoulders. Her mouth opened to question what he was doing here, but his scent hit her before any words could be uttered. Sandalwood-no. Orchards. Just the hint of apples mixed into the aromatic smell of wood, fresh earth and smoke, and laying over the top of all of that was a musk that left her mouth watering.

Hermione could feel her pupils dilate more than needed in the low light of the alcove, her pulse quickening and her breath becoming rapid-fire and erratic, like she had just run the length of Les Champs D'accouplement four times over. She moved slow under his molten gaze, pushing herself onto her knees, and when he was finally within arms reach, her fingertips brushed across his beltline, sending an electric shock across her skin upon contact as he sunk to his own knee before her.

"You're here," she breathed through kiss-swollen lips. Big doe eyes ran over his body, across his angular jaw, down the column of his neck where his adam's apple bobbed, over his chest where his nipples hardened under her heady gaze, and down his defined abdomen, noting the small trail of white blonde hair that ran a perfect line from his navel to beneath his beltline. Through the rough fabric of his tweed trousers, she could make out his erection, straining against its confines, wanting to present itself to her.

Draco shivered at her touch and his eyes slammed shut as he tried to control himself, his fingers curling into fists as the magic of their bond seemed to pull at his heart and cock with the same sort of strength. "F-fuck…" he managed through gritted teeth when her hand dropped and her fingers cupped against his erection, kneading softly against it. Draco would not consider himself an inexperienced lover by any means, but it was as if her presence was making him revert to his fourteen-year-old self. He was not going to waste the night by finishing in his trousers, not when he had a willing mate.

Silver eyes flashed open and his hand lifted to her curls, his thumb stroking her jawline to pull her attention up from where her gaze was fixated on his cloth-covered cock, and when her eyes met his, his heart stuttered. She was exquisite, like those Greek (or was it Roman?) statues his mother forced him to look at in the museum in France. At the time Draco could not see the appeal, but laid before him was his very own Aphrodite.

Without conscious thought, Draco pulled his mouth to hers, capturing her breath in a bruising kiss as his other arm wrapped around her waist and his hand moved down to cup over the swell of her arse in an attempt to pull her impossibly close. Her lips tasted sweeter than he would have imagined. Like she had just eaten honey or frosted cookies. Almost sickening sweet with a addictive base that left him craving for more even though he had them. His hot tongue slid between her lips, her moans swallowed up as greedily. Draco's hips pushed against Hermione's, the softness of her lower abdomen cradling his cock as he rocked into her to provide relief against his ache.

Hermione's hands were in his hair, messing up any sort of style that was left as she carded her fingers into the soft locks so she could curl her fingers against his scalp, short nails scraping just enough to send a shiver down his spine. When his hand on the side of her head moved to the back, she could feel it carefully wind itself into the thickness of her curls until he had a proper hold and she knew what was coming next. With a forceful yank, her head snapped back, her throat presented to him as an heady moan echoed off the stone walls around them.

Draco's lips dragged across her throat, tongue slipping out to sample her sweat-slick skin as he moved to her collarbone where he nipped and sucked his way to where her shoulder and neck joined. It was soft, and tasted sweeter than the rest of her, or perhaps it was just because he knew that this was where he was supposed to mark his claim on her. He had seen the bite marks of bonded Veela before, hell his own mother and father held the scars, but he had never been told the way this particular spot on their mate's body seemed to call out to them.

Hermione trembled, already beginning that delicious wind up. Her right hand moved from his hair, trailing slowly across his shoulders where her fingertips brushed against his own bonding point and she felt him moan against her skin, the noise muffled but obvious. A small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, knowing that in this moment Draco was beginning to bend under her touch. He was not relinquishing control to her, she knew his Veela instinct would never allow it, but rather succumbing to the overpowering feeling of finding her. Hermione eased him back until there was space between them, his hand slipping from her curls to rest on her hip with the other.

Her own moved down his chest, feeling his lean muscles roll beneath her fingertips and her eyes stayed glued to his face, watching it twist in pleasure at the simple gesture of touching his skin until she met her goal. Her fingers worked open his belt, the metal clasps clinking, causing her pulse to quicken as she got ever closer to her goal. The tweed of his trousers felt rough beneath her fingertips as she unbuttoned his pants and pulled his zip down to loosen the narrow waist.

In one swift motion Hermione hooked her fingers into the waist of his boxers and pushed against the soft fabric until his trousers and boxers hit his knees. His cock sprang back once the elastic waistband swept over his head, and it slapped against the flat of his stomach.

Hermione gulped audibly at the sight of it. Thick, and long. Since coming to Les Champs D'accouplement she had been with several men and women, exploring her sexuality, giving in to her Veela nature, but she had never seen a man so exquisite before. It was like he was carved from marble and made just for her. Perfectly suited to reach depths inside her core that were screaming with need. Her fingers curled around his thick shaft, feeling the velvet like skin encasing the hard flesh, and they both moaned. She could feel Draco's chest against hers, his lungs inflating with heavy erratic breaths as she moved her fist up and down his length, the soft pull of his foreskin exposing the bright red—almost purple- head of his cock. It glistened with the unmistakable sheen of cum that released in preparation for what was surely to come. If she had more time— or perhaps was in better control— she might lower her head to sweep her tongue across the tip to taste his essence but she knew that they both needed more than prolonged foreplay. Her eyes lifted from his cock to find his.

Draco's eyes were nearly black, just the hint of a silver ring visible now. His breath was choppy, like waves on a turbulent sea, and his chest rose and fell almost violently as she stroked his cock. He was trying to keep his mind off of how fucking perfect it felt, to have her hand curled around his length, his cock drawing her petite palm, and focus on anything that would prolong his bliss. Quidditch… end of month reports… Harry bloody Potter! His mental rolodex of thoughts that usually worked seemed to do nothing to his rising desire. When her eyes met his, his breath paused in his lungs, watching that enchanting red tongue of hers sweep across her bottom lip. Gods, what he would do to have that tongue lapping against his cock and bollocks. Not now, of course but maybe in an hour. When he had better control.

"Fuck me… take me, my mate."

Her voice was syrupy, dripping with desire and as equally husky as his had been moments ago. It did not take much to convince Draco; she could have simply pulled him to the mattress with her and he would have likely complied. His mouth sought hers out again as his right hand went to her hip and his left guided her back onto the mattress. As Draco moved over her his legs kicked off his trousers and boxers until he was laid bare. His cock pressed snug against the inside of her upper thigh as his right hand traced down her figure. His lips moved down across her neck once more, leaving love bites in their wake as he finally hooked his fingers under her knee and guided her leg up on his hip until she wound her leg around his narrow waist. Taking advantage of her submission Draco setted his hips over hers, his cock running across her throbbing wetness, and he hissed in pleasure, his teeth latching onto the soft skin just below her ear.

"P-Please, Draco," Hermione begged, her voice stuck between a whimper and a moan. She could feel her body vibrate, trembling with overwhelming desire that washed over her like dredging waves, only growing more violent the longer he teased. She had waited what felt like a lifetime for her mate to come to this place, to find her, to take her and bring her into oblivion, and now he was here. When she felt his hand snake between their bodies, her stomach caved as she exhaled sharply, making room for him to grasp the base of his cock and stroke his head against her cunt.

Her pussy felt swollen from the activities earlier in the night, but eager. Her slickness coated him easily, she could feel it run down the inside of her thighs as he spread it around before sheathing his cock inside her. She gasped, the thickness of his manhood filling her completely. It felt almost transcendent once he was fully inside her, his hips nearly flat against hers, and as Draco began to slowly grind his cock against her cervix, she nearly came undone.

He made these almost primal sounds against her throat as he set the rhythm. Slow and shallow thrusts, working his hips in odd angles until he stumbled across the spot that made her see white hot color flash behind her eyes. When he found it, her nails scratched his back, scrambling for purchase as he began to double his efforts on that area. Her moans echoed around him, reverberating back to his ears so all his world was consumed by the witch beneath him who felt more perfect for him than he ever thought possible.

Draco's hip pistoned against Hermione's, and the sweet melody of their bodies joining could be heard over her gasping breath as he drove into her with a force he was not even aware he had. He knew a Veela's drive could harm those without their heritage, but he never understood the full capacity until now. He was sure her body would be covered in handprint bruises in addition to the ones that were sure to cover both of their pelvises but there was a need to work faster and harder that seemed innate. Like his DNA knew exactly how Hermione needed to be taken and he was the only one able to provide it.

When she did find her oblivion, the witch nearly pulled Draco over the edge with her. Her pussy clamped down around his cock like a vice, muscles contracting against his thick cock as her head lulled back on the mattress. His name was screamed, but he held no signs of stopping. Instead, he moved to shallow thrusting once more, working in quick, small bursts, riding out her orgasm with his bottom lip firmly held between his teeth.

He felt her hand slide across his back, her nails leaving small streaks of red against his alabaster skin until she found his jawline, and she pulled his lips against hers once more in a searing kiss that halted his thrusts, his body paralyzed by the fever in her kiss. Her tongue claimed every single part of Draco, leaving no stone unturned. It was as if the air she needed to breathe could only be found in his lungs.

Using his distraction to her advantage, Hermione unlocked her legs from his waist and placed her feet flat on the mattress for purchase as she rolled their joined bodies until she lay on top of the blonde wizard. With his cock still nestled to the hilt in her pussy, Hermione sat up onto her knees, her mouth breaking from his as she adjusted his cock inside her body, relishing as it hit new angles that made her toes curl in delight.

The air in the small alcove felt hot, vibrant and charged; the magic seemed to spark in the air as Hermione began to ride him-her mate. Each shift of her hips caused primal moans to tumble from his lips as he watched her as if in a daze. She looked confident on top of him, as if this was an act they had done a million times over and perfected. Her right hand rose to slide into the top of her curls, holding them from her face as her left rested against his abdomen to feel his muscle contract with each downward plunge she took on his cock.

He watched her slow ride, not frantic and frenzied like he had been moments ago, no. She was talking her time to build up her orgasm, as if savoring every thrust. Draco's hands moved across her thighs, fingers spread wide to press lightly against her straining muscles until he found her hips and held her shapely waist firmly, guiding her hips into the perfect position of hitting the back of her cervix.

Silver eyes flickered between her bouncing breasts and her flushed faced, almost confused as to where he wanted to stare because every part of her was more exquisite than the last. His hand dropped when he felt her walls fluttering around his cock in preparation for a second orgasm so shortly after her first. He had been with women before capable of having multiple orgasms in one go, but nothing so quick. His thumb brushed between her sodden curls to press lightly against her hardened clit before beginning to stroke the pleasure point to encourage her towards her oblivion once more. "Come for me, Hermione," he beckoned, his voice husky and thick.

Chocolate brown eyes opened, her lips parted as she looked down at her mate and she sunk her body completely down on his cock before beginning to rotate her hips in small circles as she took gasping breaths. "Mark me…take me, Draco," she pleaded. Her hand on the top of her hair dropped to pull all of her mane over to one side of her neck, exposing the tender skin.

Draco's thumb ceased its motions and his hands dropped to the mattress, pushing himself up until she was flat against his chest, his cock buried as deep as possible inside her cunt. Logically Draco knew he shouldn't give in, but fuck if her offer wasn't exactly what he wanted. His nose rubbed over the soft skin first, inhaling her pheromones with a deep breath that made his mouth water. His hands lowered, each cupping her arse and he began to push and pull her hips for her, working her onto him in short manic thrusts as he felt his canines begin to elongate.

The biology that he always knew lay dormant in him began to come to the surface. All semblance of control he held over it vanished, and when further pleas for him to make her his were moaned into his ear, he gave him. His teeth pierced her skin in one swift bite and almost instantly his mouth filled with her blood. Sweet with just a hint of the metallic copper he knew it should taste. He could feel his cock swell as her blood filled his mouth, as if the marking had a direct effect on his own orgasm that he teetered on the edge of.

As his venom poured into the puncture wounds on her neck, he could feel Hermione tremble. Her hands clutched the back of his neck and head to hold him in place as her body accepted his. His head felt almost as if his blood was running anywhere but to his brain, and just as he began to pull away so he could lick the wounds he had created, he felt a jolt of pain-pleasure radiating from his own neck.

Hermione closed the circle, her venom entering his bloodstream, causing his heart to backfire as his seed spilled deep into her body in overwhelming bursts. It felt almost violent, the combination of his earth-shattering orgasm and the venom racing through his veins. The room blurred, his heartbeat thundering in his ears deafening the sounds in the room, and although he could not totally be sure, it seemed his orgasm and their bonding seemed to trigger Hermione's own orgasm, for as his hands gripped her to ground himself in the chaos that was his body accepting her, she seemed to shake with post-coital bliss.

His mouth unlatched from her neck, and in one fluid motion Draco fell back on the springy mattress that covered the alcove's flooring, his eyes closed and his chest wracked with each breath as what felt like thousands of tiny pin like needles ran across his skin, setting it aflame. As her venom worked through his bloodstream, the world around him felt like it was too much to bear, especially in the tent which felt like it was running 15 degrees hotter than the outside. He felt his sweat drip off his body, leaving small trails in its wake as the fever overtook his body until all he could feel was warmth.

And just as quickly as it overtook him, it seemed to vanish. His heart calmed, his cock stopped throbbing and an eerie calmness overtook him. As his silver eyes cracked open it was almost as if he was seeing colors he had never come across before. The room still felt charged, and thick with pheromones, but now he could see through the haze.

To his left he could hear the the blonde witch whose face had been buried between Hermione's thighs call across the alcove, her voice light and feminine. Full of hope and wonder. "Ma Reine," she spoke to Hermione.

"Hrrm?" Hermione had fallen beside Draco, her naked body flush against his on the mattress. Long brown curls stuck to her sweat-dripped body, and between her thighs she could feel Draco's seed slip down the inside of her thighs and onto the mattress, mixing with her own essence. She rolled slowly onto her side to face the blonde who stood on the opposite side of Draco, big brown eyes opening slowly in the dimmed light. Her pupils were still dilated but it seemed they were beginning to return to their normal size as the effects of their bonding began to subside.

"Ma Reine…you just gave us our Roi," the blonde spoke again, slowly sinking to her knees on soft carpet flooring at the top of the alcove's stairs. Big blue eyes twinkled with tears as the overwhelming realisation of what she had just witnessed sunk in.

"Oh…" Hermione's hand lifted, and she winced as she touched the side of her neck that still leaked with blood before she glanced down to Draco, who lay sprawled out similar to a starfish in the center of the mattress.

Draco had been raised like any proper Pureblood should. Education in mathematics, astronomy and the arts were important in his formative years. His mother, the well-intentioned witch, had insisted he begin French lessons at six years old. Some bullshit about their heritage and the French language providing the key to understanding where his ancestors came from. Up until this point he had thought its only use was to impress other witches.

Turning his head, Draco looked over to Hermione who had pushed herself up to her elbow. She looked nearly glowing in the soft light. Her peaches-and-cream skin shimmered in an unfamiliar glow, and those big brown eyes blinked down at him curiously. Ma Reine…Roi. Draco's brow knit ever so slightly and he tilted his head back to look to the trio who stood waiting on the top ledge of the alcove watching them, waiting for some sort of command to be given and then it clicked. This… Queen Alister had spoken about was not some sort of joke, or misunderstanding. No, Hermione was their Queen… which meant he was-No, there was no fucking way… "Granger." His voice was rough, cracking to find his usual tone as he lowered his head back to the mattress to look back at Hermione. "...We need to talk… you have a lot of explaining to do."


	5. Chapter 5

The mid-morning light held a yellow hue as it spilled through the sheer curtains that covered the window. As it spilled across his skin, Draco practically purred. The pillowtop he laid on felt heavenly, quiet possibly even better than his bed in the Manor. Rolling onto his side, a sharp ache ran down his legs from his hamstring to his toes, sending a near violent reminder of last night's activities. His hand smoothed across the soft sheets (Egyption cotton, Granger? Not too shabby for a Muggleborn) towards the open space that he knew the witch should have been, except when his hand only found more sheets and a balled up comforter instead of the warm body of his mate his eyes cracked open.

The room was elegant, if not boardline decadent, although it most certainly suited his tastes. Cream and pale yellow with just the hint of a pale green. It screamed French countryside, and while not totally his style (which consisted of black… and black… And oh yes, more black) he could see the appeal. The sound of birds chirping serenaded him as his hand moved to push the thick of blonde fringe off his forehead. Rolling onto his back, Draco sat up slowly, silver eyes scanning the room he had not gotten the best look at like night when they stumbled into the room for the second round of what turned out to be a long night of exploration.

The promise of discussing what the actual fuck was going on was given, but it seemed the need for the pair to revisit the bond that was just established was too much for either of them to argue against.

His body ached fiercely as he looked around the large room, "Uh... Granger?" His throat was raw, but nothing a bit of hot water and honey could not fix once he managed to figure out where the presumed Queen was.

"Oh. You're up," Hermione's distinctly feminine voice floated in the air like a melody. She sat at a small round breakfast table in front of double doors that lead to her terrace outside. Taking advantage of the quiet and morning sunlight, a thick leather-bound tome was open in front of her and a self inking quill jotted down her current findings on the Veela bonding ritual. Although she had speculated about the act and the effects it would have on the body, now having gone through the experience she could not pass up the opportunity to put her experience to paper. Her eyes lifted from her writing for the briefest of moments before returning to the task at hand. "Good morning."

"Good...morning?" Draco returned almost hesitantly, a single curved brow lifting towards his hairline. She seemed almost casual about him being naked in her bed, like their past and what they had spent last night doing matched up perfectly, which they both knew was entirely untrue. It had been years since he had seen her in passing and their words then had even minced.

"I've ordered us some breakfast-" Hermione lifted her free hand from her lap to gesture towards a small table across the room from where she sat that was set with two large silver cloche and what appeared to be a pot of tea. "-If I remember correctly, you used to take marmalade and toast with your eggs. It's been a couple years so I apologize if your tastes have changed since Hogwarts." Her tongue slipped between her lips in momentary concentration as she finished the last sentence before dotting the page with a small tap of her quill and she laid it down beside her text. Her curls were held up with a large jade clip on the back of her head, loosely piled to contain the madness. She had not opted to get dressed either, it seemed, for when she stood from the small table, her right hand moved to secure a cream throw blanket under her arms, making sure it did not slip down to reveal herself to him.

"I'm not hungry," Draco replied quicker than intended. It was a lie, of course, he felt like he could eat a four course meal and still be ready for more, but as he watched her walk towards the small table that contained their breakfast, he got the overwhelming feeling she had had time to process what was going on between them in a way that he had not yet.

"Really?" Hermione glanced over her bare shoulder to Draco with a sly smile sharp enough to cut straight through any awkwardness he was feeling. It was obvious she was not going to dance delicately around what occured between them. "Because I figured you might be famished after last night. I know I've been starved waiting for you to wake up but I figured having a shared meal might be in order."

Draco chuffed in disbelief at her boldness, reaching down so his hand twisted into the off white flat sheet that was draped across his lap and he pulled it from the mattress before standing, carefully holding it around his waist. His feet touched the tile floor of her room expecting to find a cold that matched the breeze fluttering through the opened windows, but it seemed she had magicked the floor to be a comfortable warm. Cheeky witch, she was always brilliant. Even though he would never tell her that. "As flattered as I am to hear that I...worked up an appetite for you, I believe we have a lot to discuss."

Pulling the lid from one of the cloches, she looked at the contents inside before glancing up to Draco as he began his slow approach. "What do you mean?" Hermione feigned ignorance. Setting the lid down, she settled into the chair, carefully parting the blanket over her legs as she crossed them at the knee.

"Well, to begin with would you care to explain why they call you my queen?" Draco moved to the opposite side of the table, carefully sliding into the high backed chair before removing the lid off of the dish in front of him to reveal two perfectly cooked soft boiled eggs, three pieces of toast and four small marmalade jars that contained different fruit flavors. His stomach gave an audible grumble, which earned a small laugh from the witch across the table.

Reaching out, Hermione hooked her index finger through the arm of his mug and placed it in the center of the table next to hers before picking up the beautiful floral teapot and began to fill each with the steaming hot liquid. "You know, I really do dislike it when they do that. I've asked them to stop numerous times, but you know what they say… Old habits." Offering no real explanation, Hermione shrugged her shoulders before dropping a single sugar cube in her cup. "One or two?"

"Uh… two and a splash of milk," Draco answered quickly. When Hermione lifted her big brown eyes on him with a look that was a cross between McGonagall and his mother, he realised what he left off. "Please." Pleasantries were not beyond him, but considering he had just spent the entire last night becoming acquainted with the most intimate parts of her body he didn't really think they were necessary. Obviously from that stern look, he was wrong. "Were you shagging three people before I-when I found you?" he corrected, reaching out to accept the cup of tea.

"Well normally it's four-" Hermione paused, letting Draco choke on his tea in a small coughing fit at her admission, a smirk spilling over her lips so sharp it could cut. She watched as his cheeks blossomed in a pink blush, sending his alabaster skin glowing. She wasn't sure she could ever remember him blushing in their youth, and perhaps it was just the recent bonding talking, but she could not deny the way it seemed to flicker the ambers of flames low in her belly. If he was blushing because of that, he really should prepare himself for the other details of her four year stay here. "-but Estelle found her mate two days ago. She has been rather preoccupied with him since."

Draco damn near dropped the delicate teacup, clinking it loudly on the matching saucer as he set down hastily. "Merlin's pants Granger," the wizard coughed into his fist, silver eyes wide on the curly haired swot who only began to openly laugh as his surprise. "What the fuck is going on here?"

"What do you mean? Your parents are both well known Veela. Surely you had heard of Les Champs D'accouplement before…" Her tone was not judgemental, but definitely riddled with an apprehensive skepticism as she brought her tea cup to her lips.

"Yes, Granger. I was well aware of this place existing before I was giving my marching orders from the Ministry," he snapped with a small huff. "However, it seems like my parents forgot to mention the gigantic sexy party that occurs a couple times a week when they tenure here. Or the fact that apparently there is a fucking Queen. Is that a royal title, by the way, or just some sort of posh nickname they've given you?"

Hermione snorted, her nose wrinkling at his question. Merlin, Alister had mentioned that Draco had been a bit lost when it came to their culture, but this was almost pitiful. Narcissa, an active member of their restoration and education board, surely she would have tried to teach him more, wouldn't she? "Draco, how much about Veela culture are you actually aware of?" Hermione's pink tongue darted between her lips to collect the milky tea residue from her upper lip before she set her own cup down (far more elegantly than him, mind you) and she picked up her fork to take a small bite of her poached eggs.

Draco's heart thumped and his cock twitched as he watched that merciless pink appendage he became well acquainted with last night and for the briefest of moments, images of what they had done flashed behind his mind. Her mouth on his cock and bollocks. Deliciously pink tongue lapping against him like a cat with cream. Fuck! Now was not the time for his libido to get the better of him. He needed answers, and then… if they were to his liking, and only then, would he allow himself the possibility of revisiting that blissful space between Hermione's thighs. "I...uh… I mean I guess I know… some."

"Some?" Hermione repeated, a bit of egg slipping from between her plump lips as she spoke. Setting her fork down quickly, she lifted a napkin to dab at the corners of her mouth as she swallowed down the mouthful. "Malfoy, you have known about your heritage for quite some time. If I remember correctly, you were fairly fond of bringing it up while at Hogwarts to get into several girls' knickers. I believe back then you had an affinity for girls with less brain cells than the number of fingers on their hand, which kind of explains how it worked so well..."

"Well, I got between your thighs, does that mean you now fall into that category?"

"Quite the opposite. I'm smart enough to know your cock is not bigger because of your heritage," Hermione snorted.

"Well you did not seem to complain last night," Draco quipped, leaning forward so he could put his elbows on the table as he took a bite of the toast he had just covered in a peach marmalade.

"We can discuss how large… or small your equipment is after this conversation." Hermione leaned back in the chair as she crossed her arms over her bust as she studied the way smug seemed to seep from his pores. So he was still a pompous ass, it seems like that much had not changed since she had last laid eyes on him.

Small? Ha! Draco was knew that while not being equipped with the biggest cock in the world, his size was more than adequate when it came to bringing witches to climax, and Hermione was certainly no stranger to that by now. "Just because I have Veela blood does not mean I study their history, Granger. Not everyone needs to understand every trivial detail about their heritage."

"So you did not think it was important to learn about your culture and heritage when given the opportunity? Narc-Your mother owns several Veela texts that I have personally borrowed since being here. Surely you had access to those books."

"Does it really fucking matter now that I'm here?" Draco tossed his half-eaten toast on the plate before brushing his fingertips over the plate to catch any crumbs that fell. "Just bloody tell me what you're hinting at so we can get this little lesson over with and continue about our morning."

Straightening her spine, Hermione shook her head, fingertips pressing lightly into the skin on her biceps as she huffed in irritation. "Fine. If you want to waste the knowledge you could have because you're too self absorbed to see past your cock-"

"My large cock."

"Oh shut it. I've had bigger," Hermione scoffed, waving her hand at him. "What do you want to know exactly? Since you seem to be full of questions this morning."

"Why are you here?"

"I was brought here after presenting my Veela heat symptoms about four years ago." Hermione slowly uncrossed her arms, relaxing back into the wood of the chair before lifting her cup and saucer off the table so she could take another large sip of her tea.

"...four years ago? You only would have been...nineteen?" Draco questions, his brow furrowing as he did mental math. He was not well versed on his Granger knowledge but figured she could not have been that much older than him. "That seems early."

"I was twenty," Hermione corrected. "It's not exactly late, but some Veela can go into their first heat as early as sixteen from the written accounts I have read. Of course, that was well before Veela started producing offspring with Non-veela. Regardless, I came here at twenty and never left. At my first Couplage it became incredibly apparent I was not like the rest who simply show up to find their mate."

"What do you mean?"

"Well…My body let off these… I'm not entirely sure what to call them. They feel like waves in an ocean, but Alister said they feel like pulses of pure energy; like when you get that zap from static electricity. I could not control it well back then because… well, I did not really know I was Veela up until the day before, but to be fair I was so far into my heat that I would not have been able to control it if I knew what I was capable of," Hermione explained, offering up a small shrug. "Either way, I essentially caused everyone in the compound to...uh…"

"To...what?" Draco pressed.

"To sort of...enter their heat...in that exact moment."

"I'm sorry...what?" the blond asked in disbelief. He had heard many tales (mainly from his mother) but this was most certainly not something he had ever heard before. Another Veela causing others' heats to kickstart was not how it worked.

"It's a trait of their...they call it Royalty, but I feel like it's a bit of a stretch because...well, any of my future children will not necessarily inherit this trait, so it does not really make sense. I am still trying to establish a proper English translation for their title, but Alister keeps shooting down anything I come up with. Nevertheless, I found out that every few generations there is a female Veela who possesses the ability to initiate heats, cause frenzies if you will, thus encouraging the spreading of our heritage throughout the world, and of course, in some cases. encourage Veela to find their mates."

"And…you're this...special Veela?"

"That is what I am told. If I was not I do not believe Alister would have allowed them to open the chambers for me," she explained, gesturing to the lavish room around her. "I was not even aware a thing existed. There are no books on this type of hierarchy within the Veela culture. In all fairness, there is not a lot written about Veela beyond books on sex, and the properties of Veela hair in wand making and wand lord. Which as fascinating as it is, did little to help me understand my role in this place."

Draco reached out for his teacup, long fingers curling around the delicate china, and he brought it to his lips to drain the cup in one large gulp. This was impossible! His mother would have mentioned this to him before now, wouldn't she? Technically speaking, he might not always be paying attention when they droned on and on about this place, or their familial tie to it, but he would have most certainly remembered the mention of Royalty. "But you're a Muggleborn."

Hermione stifled a laugh behind her lifted palm. "Wow, Malfoy. You're so incredibly astute. Yes, both of my parents were Muggles, but from what I can trace in my geneology, my Gran' on my mother's side had...relations with a Veela man. I am not entirely positive on the specifics, as it was done during the last Queen's reign when she induced a frenzy that could be felt all the way in England."

Draco did little to hide his eye roll at her almost condescending tone as he picked up his toast for another rough bite. "If that was the case, then why isn't your father a wizard?" Every single Veela he had come across held magic in their blood just the same, which meant either Granger's mum was a bit of an adulterer or perhaps she was not as smart as she thought herself to be.

"Being Veela does not mean you are a magical, Malfoy," Hermione scoffed, setting her now empty teacup down on the saucer.

Draco's curved brows knit in careful confusion. "What? Of course it does! Don't be daft."

Hermione shook her head, her hand lifting to wave off his tone before she picked up her fork to tuck into the rest of her breakfast. Brown eyes dropped from him, only glancing at his through the thick layer of beautifully dark lashes briefly. "Of course it doesn't. Didn't you notice that more than half of the people here do not carry wands? Look at Alister, he is wandless as well."

"I...I didn't notice, no." His free hand rose to the back of his neck, scratching lightly as he thought about the golden haired man in question. He carried a clipboard...a pen but never a wand. At the time Draco did not think it particularly odd, but now that Hermione had mentioned it...

"Shocking...truly." Her voice dripped with sarcasm so thick she was sure Draco could see the words as they hit his ears. "Look, I have been able to find some text and personal diaries that outline the Veela history. Perhaps you can read through them later to at least get a rudimentary understanding of what it's like to be a bonded Veela."

Draco's hand on the back of his neck and dropped to the side where the two puncture wounds still ached from their ritual last night. He had nearly forgotten. "And this doesn't...bother you?" His eyes narrowed skeptically as he gestured to the puncture wound on her own neck that his eyes had glossed over earlier. "That we're bonded."

"Well, after you passed out and I got more blood flowing to my brain last night I was a bit concerned, but I have had months-if not years to prepare myself for the possibility of my mate being…different than myself. You never know who your mate is, it's a bit of the fun of it all I suppose. Looking back on it, I think the signs were quite apparent early on in our youth, but you clearly did not bother to ever discuss what to look for with your parents, so...here we are," she remarked as she finished off the last bit of her eggs before reaching out to put her silver choffing lid back on top of her cleared plate. "Besides, the alternative-not bonding with your mate-" Hermione shuddered, her eyes dropping away from his at the memory. "-is rather something I do not wish to experience, so for lack of a better term, you're stuck with me Malfoy."

Draco nodded. He did not need a first hand account to know she spoke the truth. Living your life without a mate was almost like living no life at all. Draco knew eventually he would have had to try and find them-her, but he figured he would have been able to buy himself a couple more years of freedom. Papa Abraxas had not found Grandmum Wendolynn until nearly in his forties and the effects had not set in yet. "Right…" he agreed, his fingertips pushing his plate that still contained his soft boiled egg and piece of toast away from him as he no longer felt hungry at the thought. "So how are we going to do this then?"

"Well…" Hermione began, her hands moving to the blanket that was still wrapped around her bust. "To begin I figured you would finish your breakfast…and then I would climb in your lap for a good morning shag...but if you'd like we can always substitute the chair for the bed…or the shower…"

Draco could feel the molten intensity in her gaze that seemed to change with the snap of her fingers, causing pale blonde hair on his arms to stand on end. "You don't want to discuss...our past...making this work…" he croaked, despite his already hardening cock which had clearly picked up on her scent quicker than his brain registered it.

"We could...but I figured this might be more fun…" Standing, the chair she sat in squeaked across the flooring of her room and she carefully dropped the throw blanket around around her body, letting it pool at her feet and the soft yellow morning light made the soft sunkissed skin of her body glow.

Draco's eyes moved from her face, down the column of her neck, across her full breasts with already hardening dark pink nipples, down her soft abdomen to the gorgeous patch of chestnut curls that lay between her legs. His mouth went dry almost instantly as a dulled craving inside his body reared to life. His mate…the person he was supposed to be with stood a few feet from him practically presenting herself to him and all he thought was 'let's have a chat'? Merlin, what was wrong with him!?

Hermione's feet moved from beneath the blankets, carefully stepping out of the pile as she made her way towards him. Lifting her hand, she left her mind say the incantation needed to move his chair back just a half foot so the table did not block her way. Wordless magic had always been tricky for her, but since coming to Les Champs D'accouplement she seemed more in tune with herself than ever before. Her magic flourished and came more naturally than ever. She could only imagine now that she had found him-her mate- she would be able to do so much more. But that was something she would have to look into at a later date because her intention was to find her own personal slice of nirvana that only Draco could provide her.

Reaching out, she carefully pulled the sheet open from his lap to reveal his already hardening cock, and a sly smirk fell over her lips. Draco made no move to stop her, almost paralyzed under her heated gaze as she straddled his lap. His skin felt aflame, burning hot to the touch as she pressed her chest to his. She could feel his thunderous heartbeat against hers, which matched with intensity and speed as she wound her arms around his neck slowly so her fingers played with the soft hairs on the back of his neck. "So...what'll it be then? The chair, or the bed...or the shower?" she questioned, scooting her hips forward enough to let her pussy brush against his cock that was standing tall between her thighs.

Draco's eyes fluttered closed, his hands instinctively dropping to her waist and his fingers curled into the soft skin above her arse, pressing lightly as her touch sent bolts like electricity straight to his heart before it ricocheted down to his cock which throbbed with each pulse. Slowly, his eyes cracked open and he shivered as her fingers slipped up the back of his head, her nails scratching against his scalp softly. "The Ch-air is fine," he mumbled before leaning in to steal her lips in a searing kiss. Fuck talking, they had the rest of the two weeks to talk and figure this shit out. Right now, he wanted to make her scream.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco leaned back against the warm stones that lined the natural hot spring, letting the soft smooth round bulges of the stone bite into the small knots that had formed across his back. He had been at Les Champs D'accouplement for nearly a week and while the trip had turned out far better than he had originally anticipated, it was not the rest and relaxation he had thought it would have been. Not when he had the needs of his recently bonded mate to attend to. It seemed, in addition to being able to cause frenzies, Hermione's sex drive ran par with where his had been as a teenager. They could barely make it through a shared meal without her pheromones thickening the air.

"I was starting to think you might have run away," a friendly American voice called across the babbling water. Alister, naked as the day he was born, sunk into the steaming water. The tips of his golden blonde hair touched the water's surface, which began to weigh the golden locks down as he moved over to settle in beside Draco after looking around the large cluster of pools. "How have you been? Still eager to hide in your cottage and return back to the land of clouds and rain?"

Draco laughed, lifting his arms to rest on the stone wall's ledge behind him as he turned ever so slightly to face the concierge. "All thoughts of running have seemed to escape my mind, surprisingly enough." The corners of his mouth tugged lightly at the smallest hint of a smile. It would probably be the closest thing to a smile the Muggle would earn from him, but not because Draco was unhappy or did not like the man. No, Malfoys simply did not allow that show of emotion if they could help it. "I have not returned to my original cabin since my first day here except to grab my things and relocate. Hermione...keeps me quiet occupied."

"Oh, we know." Alister laughed, his eyes widening for effect as he looked to the blonde wizard.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Every time you both…come together-" Alister lifted his hands out of the water to add air quotations around the later part of his sentence, causing Draco to roll his silver eyes much to the American's amusement. "-Shockwaves of your combined magic can be felt all over the grounds. I knew she had found her mate the first night you found each other." When Draco's face managed to pale to a shade Alister was not even sure could be classified in the human spectrum, his laughter only increased. "Don't tell me. You did not know that happened every time you guys fucked?"

"No, I didn't know that happened every time we _shagged_ ," Draco corrected his adjective, snapping his reply a little harsher than intended. It was not he was not… proud of his abilities in the bedroom, hell Hermione had not seemed to complain once in the past week! But knowing the entire compound felt their shockwaves (that's what Alister called it, right?) when they shagged was not exactly something anyone should be happy about. "How the fuck was I supposed to know this stuff?"

"Well, considering that in the room you've spent the past week is nearly every written record about Veela, available anytime you should want to familiarize yourself with your Queen's magic, you could read instead of plow Ma Reine into a mattress," Alister suggested.

"Alister, how well do you know Hermione?" Draco questioned plainly, but cut off the blonde with a lifted hand before he could respond. "Because if she walked in the room and I had a book cracked open, she might accidentally entice a frenzy off the image alone."

Alister paused, weighing out Draco's words carefully before nodding in agreement "Touche. Then perhaps you can take a small break from your pelvic workout and you could come to my cottage. I could give you a very…very basic overview on the history and known magic of our Queen, should you feel so inclined to gain a better understanding."

Draco leaned back into the wall further, letting the stones and warm mineral water seep into his pores, working the small knots free of his back. It probably would not be a bad idea, considering he was now bonded to Hermione-the supposed Queen. Hell it might be able to provide him a better overview of what his role in this little society would be, because he highly doubted being her fuck boy was really his only duty, based on the way people looked at him expectantly when he walked about the grounds with Hermione at his side. "I might take you up on that offer here soon."

"Well don't wait too long, Mr. Malfoy." Alister slipped off the small ledge that he and Draco were perched on, standing on the soft bottom of the hot spring. "Wouldn't want you to leave after your _mandatory two weeks_ without some sort of education," Alister teased as he began to work his way towards the other side of the hot spring where his mate had just entered.

Draco opened his mouth to give some sort of snarky reply, but the retort died on his tongue. Two week stay, Merlin he had almost forgot. He had been so consumed with Hermione this past week and exploring every way he could get her to make those delightful little noises that he had not even thought about home. Lifting his hand from the water, he slicked his hair back as he tried to wrap his mind around how the bloody hell he was going to leave her.

As he tried to work out a way he might be able to make a relationship work when they were established in lives countries apart, Hermione's singsong voice pulled him from his thoughts.

The curly haired witch, surrounding by the team of people Draco had taken up calling her entourage, had entered the hot springs from the other side of the large pool. She moved gracefully across the water, long brown curls dragging through the steaming water that hovered just above the swell of her breasts. Through the crystal clear water, he could make out her figure, although it was slightly distorted. He still could not believe what sort of transformation the witch had gone through in the past four years. She was entirely different, or perhaps it was their Veela bond convincing him so.

"Feeling any better?" Hermione questioned as she approached. Instead of taking the open seat on the small ledge next to her mate, Hermione swam right up to Draco. Her wet hands slipped up his chest, fingers gliding over his lean muscles as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Sliding into his lap, her legs draped off to his left side, while her arse settled into the seat his lap created.

Draco smirked, dropping his arms back into the pool so he could comfortably hold her narrow waist in place against him. "I'm on the mend. Your needs are most certainly aging me," he teased before leaning in to press a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Oh... my poor Roi," Hermione teased, a wet hand sliding from his neck to pat against his cheek playfully as her small girlish laughter tickled his ears. "Perhaps we should skip the Couplage tonight and retire early since you're still...as you put it, on the mend."

"It doesn't sound like a bad idea." Draco's head turned and he nibbled at her fingertips until she pulled her hand away from his face and back under the water. "Although, you might only be suggesting it because you do not feel like getting shagged into a mountain of pillows again."

Hermione snorted, glancing over her shoulder to the group of women who burst into laughter at his observation before glancing back up to her mate, watching his ego boost before her eyes. Merlin, some things did not change, it seemed. Draco was still so easily susceptible to praise and attention as he was in their youth and clearly there was little difference now. Thankfully, this time it was far less annoying than previously. "Perhaps, but I do have some letters to write to the coalition of Foreign Ministries and would love if you could review them. What with your keen attention to detail and all...if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind. I will be the first to admit that I am not well-versed in the topic but I might be persuaded to offer my assistance if you promise our absence from Couplage will not result in a quiet night...what are you writing them for anyways?"

"I am trying to convince them to partner with our board and myself on getting Foreign Ministries and their Non-Magical Counterparts to sponsor getting Veela from other countries to Les Champs D'accouplement." As she spoke, Hermione's eyes took on a different light. This had been something she had busied herself with for the past two years, ever since she realised how big of a problem it was. A cause close to her heart and something that she hoped, eventually, she might be able to prove worthy to the leaders of the Foreign Ministries. "I have managed to get the British Ministry of Magic on board, as well as France, Germany and Switzerland's Ministries, but I am starting to think we need to think beyond Europe and the United Kingdom. If I can secure the support of the MACUSA then I think the rest might follow."

"But Alister is American...and he's here." Draco let the fingers of his right hand trace her spine, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly as he watched her passion wash over her, flushing her face with a desire to provide for others like her. Draco's heart thumped with a primal sense of pride. She was beautiful, smart, and stronger than she knew, and she was his. His mate.

"Yes, but how many other Americans did you happen to come across this past week?" Hermione questioned, practically melting under his touch as she leaned against him. "Alister footed the bill for his plane ticket to France. He had to sell everything just to afford to get here. Veela should not have to feel financially incapable of finding their mates, because at that cost they are risking their sanity the older they get." Hermione let a hand slip from the back of his head down to his chest, fingers brushing softly across the sparse white blonde hair on his chest as she spoke, letting the mindless caress steal some of the emotion she felt away so she didn't let it overcome her.

"The British and European Ministries are more tolerant to people with Veela heritage, but that is not the case around the world. Two weeks before you came here, Alister had to go recuse a woman from MACUSA custody. She was so far into her heat that she presented and they did not know how to calm her down. She was shackled and thrown in a holding cell for four days before we caught wind of what was happening." Hermione let her eyes drop from Draco's as she felt unshed tears prick her eyes. The world was full of injustices; she was not unaware of them but it still hurt to know a person she would be protecting had been treated so horribly. Veela had lived hidden from the world for far longer than they should have, and perhaps it was their ancestors' own fault for not being more open about themselves, but it was high time someone fixed it and Hermione intended to do just that.

"You really do love our people, don't you?" Draco's voice was barely a whisper, silver eyes flashing up to the entourage and around the pool at the happy Veela that mingled around them. It wasn't just this place, although the picturesque scenery did help. No, they were happy because of her. Because they had someone to help guide them through the most confusing part of it all, at least for him, and someone they could turn to. Hermione was only their Queen in name, but she seemed to take the title to heart.

"Well, someone should fight on their behalf, right?" she questioned. "We need not live in the shadows any longer."

Draco nodded, letting his eyes find the beautiful witch perched in his lap. Lifting his hand from the water he cupped her jaw, carefully turning her face up towards his as his thumb swept against the soft skin of her cheek, making its way towards her plump bottom lip. "Well then, my queen. How shall I ever repay you for your tireless efforts?"

Hermione's eyes flashed with a familiar desire, pupils dilating ever so slightly as she picked up on an unmistakable huskiness to his voice that she had come to crave almost as much as she needed oxygen. "Well...I can think of a couple ways…"

Hermione closed her eyes, a shaky breath exhaling through plump lips as she shifted on the hard wooden chair, trying to hide the way her entire body trembled with a deep need for her mate. "Draco, P-Please…" she whispered, looking down to her lap where Draco sat on bent knees beneath the table, only the top of his blonde hair visible, but she could feel his tongue lap against her cunt with wickedly decadent swipes of his tongue that she was certain should be illegal. A rumbly chuckle could be felt between her thighs and Hermione let out whimper as the vibrations tickled against her clit.

"You've been such a good girl, Hermione. You wouldn't want to stop before you finished up your work, would you?" Draco's hot breath washed across the soft patch of curls and the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Lifting his head slowly, his hand lifted from where he had been petting her inner thigh and he wiped it across his chin to remove some of her essence that was stuck to his skin. His other hand still on her thigh moved to the seat of the chair, fingertips brushing against her folds as he gave the chair a slow push back to allow him the room to straighten his spine as he craned his head to look over his shoulder at the paperwork laid out on her desktop. "Just two more signatures, love. The longer you delay, the longer it will be until you cum."

Hermione felt an unintended growl slip from her throat as she pursed her lips together. This truly was the most unfair little game he had worked up, but she knew pouting would only make him delay her orgasm further. "You're the worst," she informed him, reaching over his shoulder to try and snatch her quill from the table so she could finish before he bent down between her parted thighs once more.

"You love it," he replied with a smirk so sharp it could cut glass, leaning in to press a quick kiss against her lips, knowing full well she would be able to taste herself before he pulled back and sunk back down onto the floor, curling under the desk. He moved the soft fabric of her sundress back around her hips, tucking the silk fabric under her arse with nimble fingers to expose her cunt to the room. Hungry eyes ran over her sodden curls, and his cock, already painfully hard, seemed to jolt in response. Reaching out, he let his fingertips brush gently up from the inside of her knee toward the apex of her thighs, working in slow deliberate strokes until he reached her pleasure center once more. "Your pussy is fucking gorgeous, Hermione."

Draco's lust-laced voice did things to her body that Hermione could not explain. Was it the bond? Or was it that once he finally pulled the giant stick from his ass he finally relaxed enough to be undeniably sexy? She felt his fingers part her pussy, spreading it open for his hot breath to tickle over as he leaned in close again. Her grip on the quill tightened to the point she feared it might snap as she hastily signed her name to the letter that Alister typed earlier intended for the Prime Minister of Germany. "D-Draco," she keened, her left hand dropping from the table to rest on the back of his head, fingers carding through his blonde hair as he pressed his tongue against her clit once more.

She tasted better than any drink or sweet he had encountered before. He might have to substitute her cunt for all future cravings, because at the moment Cauldron Cakes did not hold a candle to the way she made his mouth water. Groaning softly against her mound, the flat of his tongue pressed against her clit in slow deliberate strokes. His right hand dropped to grip his cock through his linen pants to provide some sort of comfort to his own needs as he let the tip of his tongue lick the length of her slick, collecting her essence with each slow stroke.

Hermione's eyes closed, letting the sweep of his tongue bring her ever closer to the precipice, and just as she felt herself toe the edge, her back arching off the hard wooden chair, her nails scraping against Draco's scalp, he pulled his tongue from the small bundle of nerves to work against her entrance, his head cocking to the side as he let his tongue slide into her swollen core, working into her as deep as his tongue would allow. A small huff in frustration was given and she gritted her teeth as she felt the flimsy grasp she had on her orgasm slip away as he focused his efforts elsewhere. Sliding the parchment to the side, her trembling fingers gripped the self-inking quill tighter in an attempt to steady her hand as she signed the last document, accidently blotting her name as she rocked her hips forward. The rule was she needed to get the documents signed, not that they needed to look perfect, right?

Slamming her quill against the desktop to signal having completed her task, Hermione let her thighs part further as she used her hand on the back of his head to draw him closer as she tipped her head back in the chair. She felt his fingers brush down her labia, brushing through her curls to wet them properly before he replaced his tongue with his index and middle fingers, curling his palm towards the ceiling as he beckoned her toward the orgasm he had denied her for the last thirty minutes.

His name was a prayer on her lips as she rocked into him, her nails biting into the soft wood of the desk as she braced herself as the other curled into his scalp. She could hear him hiss in response, but the pain didn't seem to phase him as he wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking and nibbling on her as his fingers found the spot that made her toes curl.

White heat flashed behind her eyelids as she slipped into oblivion, her voice a heady moan that was nearly unrecognizable. She felt her body tremble and quiver as shockwaves rocked through her petite frame. Her pussy tightened around his fingers, but it did not stop his ministrations to the most sensitive parts of her body. She could feel his cheek and chin slide against the inside her of thighs, coating her skin with her own essence as he leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on the tops of her mounds as his words of praise pulled her from the nirvana he created for her.

"Such a good girl…" Draco's fingers slowly eased from her cunt and he brought them up to his mouth, sliding them between his pussy-slick lips and he made a point to swirl his tongue multiple times around them before audibly popping them from his mouth one by one.

His knees ached from the hard floor, but he would be damned if he was going to let a little discomfort get in the way from ending it there. They had skipped Couplage that evening and took dinner in her chambers so she could finish her work, and now that it was done, he damn well planned to enact all the depraved things he had thought about during the day with her.

Finding his footing, Draco rose to his full height, causing his spine to pop as his vertebrae slipped back into place. Her eyes were drawn to his tenting pants instantly, and even though seconds earlier she had been nearly boneless from her delayed orgasm, he watched as flames flickered to life before her big beautiful chocolate irises. When her hand shot out, reaching for the waistband of the linen pants, he caught her wrist as he tsked at her with a slow shake of his head.

Hermione's too large eyes found his face, and her teeth bit her bottom lip as a wicked grin washed over his features. Each day since bonding had brought out a different side to the wizard, and while she was enjoying all aspects of getting to know him (some more intimate than others), she was most excited by this particular side of Draco. Possessive, commading, and almost feral. She could feel her pussy, still spasming from the orgasm he gave her, flood further as the need to have him-all of him- returned with a full force.

Pulling her from the chair, his arms encircled her waist as he crashed her body against his tightly. Palms found the round globes of her arse, spreading wide across the silken fabric, and he slowly began to tug at her dress, inching it up her skin until the bottom hem was held betwixt his fingers. In one fluid motion he pulled it over her head, leaving her as naked as the day she was born in his arms. Her nipples were dark pink and beginning to pucker, her golden sun-kissed skin flushed with an undeniable heat. If he were a more patient man, he might stand back and admire the beauty that his mate held, but Draco would never be accused of such a thing. ""Bed...Now."

Hermione moved quickly, bare feet slapping against the tile until she reached the bed, and she sunk her knees into the soft hippogriff down feathered comfort. Just as she began to turn to roll onto her back she heard his booming voice command her to stop just as she was, perching on her hands and knees with her ass facing the end of the bed. "W-What?" Turning just her head, she watched as his wicked fingers loosened the small drawstring bow at his waist and the linen pants that were doing little to conceal his thick cock dropped to his ankles.

"I said stop…I want you just...like...that."

Hermione shivered, his words echoing in his ears as the primal urge to please her mate overtook her. She watched as he moved slowly towards her with a loose hipped swagger that conveyed just how fucking confident he was. His hand was already priming his cock with firm strokes as he moved closer, silver eyes already darkening three shades by the time he hit the bed.

"You have a beautiful pussy, Hermione...have I ever told you that?" Draco questioned as he reached out, his hands finding her hips, and he pulled her back on the mattress until her feet dangled off the end of the bed. He twisted his wrists, carefully angling her hips down so her heart shaped ass was arched into the air.

"Y-Yes."

"I suppose I can't help it... It's so pink when you're like this-" The fingers on his right hand ran her spine. He could feel her skin ripple with goosebumps as his left hand let his fingers stroke against the cleft of her arse. "So wet…and ready for my cock." Draco's eyes flashed to Hermione's face, watching her eyes close as his words alone seemed to tantalize her.

She could feel his eyes across her skin, sending electricity straight to her clit in dredging waves as she parted her thighs more, trying to arch into his fingertips as his hand on her arse dropped further towards her entrance. When he pulled away, she felt her heart thump erratically in anticipation, hoping the sound she heard was him scooting closer to line his cock up with her aching entrance. It was only when she felt his hands return to her backside, spreading her open like a ripe fruit did she realise what was about to happen.

Before she could protest, Draco bent low and let his tongue sweep across her puckered hole, swirling around the entrance of hers he had yet to breach before he bent low to lick down to her pussy. Her moans took on a new octave, and the normal words of encouragement were replaced with unintelligible gasps, moans and whimpers in pleasure.

Draco took his time, alternating between her cunt and her asshole, lavishing each with attention until he could felt her quiver with need. His hands kneaded the globes of her arse, fingertips pressing softly into the thick mounds of flesh as his tongue once again swirled around her asshole, dipping in with the tip of his tongue just enough to make her shiver.

"D-D-Draco," Hermione begged. Her skin was already lined with a thin layer of perspiration, and she felt as if she had just ran a race. The new feelings of his mouth on parts of her body she did not think she would ever explore shook her to the core. All coherent thought erased the moment his tongue met her skin. She needed only one thing now.

"Yes, Hermione?" His mouth lifted from her backside, nearly black eyes looking at her flushed face. "Tell me what you need...I'll give it to you if you just...ask." His hot breath tickled her skin, and he watched as goosebumps ran her spine.

"F-fuck me… please just fuck-UGH!"

Before she could finish, Draco stood up and happily complied. His right hand moved to her hip, fingers curling against the hard bone as his left dropped to line up his cock with her entrance and with one swit motion he buried himself to the hilt in her core. She was hot, almost painfully so, but Draco had begun to crave the burn.

He did not take long to establish a brutal rhythm, pistoning in and out of her with a primal need to spill his seed deep in her belly. He knew she wasn't in heat, and the contraceptive potions she took daily provided plenty of protection for her not to become pregnant, but the instinct drove past logical thought. Deep down, the primal part of him that provided the need to claim her, also wanted to see the flat expanse of her belly swell with his child.

His left hand moved across her lower back, stroking softly against her skin before it slowed down towards where they were connected, and his thumb strummed across her puckered hole, testing to see her reaction. When he felt her pussy tighten around his cock in response, Draco knew just how he wanted to push her over the edge.

His thumb was brought to his mouth, and he swirled it around to make sure it was thoroughly coated in saliva before he brought it back down to her backside and pressed it into her ass. He felt her body buck against him in response as he worked into her with long quick strokes of his cock, angling his hips just so to brush against her cervix each time he bottomed out.

Hermione felt her body come apart at the seams, shattering into what felt like a thousand tiny pieces as his cock (and thumb) pushed her into a climax. She could feel as the drudging shockwaves of her orgasm left her body, the Veela magic nearly visible as it pulsed from her skin, and she felt Draco's hand on her hip curl tighter, almost bruisingly so against her as he sheathed himself fully into her spasming pussy and she felt his cock throb in response as his seed spilled deep inside her. Her own name was groaned from his lips in praise as he ground his hips against the cushion of her arse and slowly (thankfully) he withdrew his thumb from her before he pulled his softening cock from her sore core before falling to the mattress beside her.

She could feel his seed begin to trickle from her pussy, leaking down onto her inner thighs as she lay flat on her belly, trying to regain her breath and give her now raw vocal chords a break. Reaching out, her hand went to his chest where she felt his heart beat in a strong, albeit uneven rhythm and she smiled sleepily when his hand rose to rest over hers. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Draco's head turned to the side and his silver gray eyes stole the words straight from her mind.

For the first time since walking into Les Champs D'accouplement he left his guard completely down. An unbidden smile pulled his lips enough for his perfectly straight teeth to show as he looked at her with clear adoration. If someone told him seven years ago that Hermione Granger would make him feel this amazing, Draco would have hexed them to Egypt and back, but now that he was here, he truly could not imagine anything less. She was his equal in so many ways, but also far exceeded him in many others. She brought out the best in him, showing a softer side to his character, one where he did not need to feel so careful to hide his emotions all the time.

Knowing this, how could he even think of leaving her, even if temporarily? A long distance relationship would simply not work, even with the aid of magic. No, that simply was not going to happen. "Fuck two weeks," he muttered, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watched her brow knit in careful confusion as he rolled onto his side before bringing his mouth to hers in another breath-stealing kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco paced in front of the glittering golden gates that separated Les Champs D'accouplement from the French Alps. He had insisted on greeting his parents, as opposed to sending Alister. The concierge was not exactly thrilled to be relieved of his duty. Draco assumed it was because he wanted to get dirt on him from his overly talkative mother, but he agreed after Hermione backed up his request.

His thumbnail scratched lightly against the soft flaxen facial hair he forgot to rid his chin and cheeks of this morning while showering. He had found an easy routine with Hermione over the past two weeks, and had actually come to enjoy Les Champs D'accouplement far more than he originally anticipated. Together they would explore the grounds, when free time allowed of course, attend Couplage, and bid goodbye to the departing Veela as they made their return to their home countries. Of course, there was always time in between the busy schedules for them to get lost in each others' arms (and bodies).

His loafers sank into the morning dewed grass, marking his trail as he moved back and forth, his eyes glossing over as the possibilities of how this meeting was going to go played through his mind. He knew his parents would recognise Hermione immediately. She had gone to school with him from eleven to eighteen. She was the valedictorian of their graduating glass (a title that his father insisted was stolen away from him, despite the fact Draco was not even the second best in his class) and had, at the time, felt like a thorn in his side growing up. Would his father spew more Pureblood ideology that clearly held no business in something as sacred as this? Being part Veela did not require a person to be born of magic, which meant that, even if he had not come to this conclusion long ago, the beliefs his father held steadfast were utter fucking bullshit.

While Draco would be quick to defend Hermione, should she need it, he was not eager to start a row with his father anytime soon. Perhaps, just maybe, everything would work out okay. This place did… something to people once they crossed through the gates. The air seemed to smell better, the world seemed light. Perhaps his father wouldn't be as outraged as Draco assumed.

The soft pop of apparition pulled him from his thoughts and his head lifted. Clammy hands slid into the front pockets of his gray trousers, hoping to wipe away some of the sweat from them as he moved into the middle of the threshold. "Mother… Father," he greeted. Although his face was void of any emotion, his eyes danced with pure delight.

"Oh, Draco! You look so… happy!" Narcissa cooed as she gathering up the length of her traveling gown and robes, lifting the hemline as she crossed from the earth into the grounds. As she approached her son, her right hand went up to touch his cheek, thumb stroking affectionately across his stubbled cheek before she leaned up to press her lips against the high of his cheekbone.

Lucius dutifully followed his wife, long blonde hair brushed to perfection and pin straight across his shoulders and back. His cane guided his movement towards his boy and when Narcissa pulled back, a pair of silver eyes that matched the hue of Draco's scanned his son from head to toe. "Bliss certainly does become you, Draco. However, it seems with your head in the clouds you might have forgotten the… image Malfoy men strive to keep."

Normally, Draco would blush in humiliation at his father's subtle hint at his appearance. In truth, Draco was probably the most over-dressed member still at Les Champs D'accouplement, with the exception of his parents, of course. He wore black loafers, gray trousers, and a jewel colored button-down that that complimented his complexion and eyes like it was bespoke for him (surprise, it had been). It wasn't what he wore that was the issue. It was the fact his shirt was untucked, and the first three buttons left purposefully undone, exposing his alabaster skin to the warm summer sun.

But now, having been in there for two weeks, he laughed at the insult, his hand lifting to bat away his mother's from his cheek before his fingers rubbed across his stubbled jaw. "Luckily, there are no photographers or business associates to see the horror of an untucked oxford."

As Lucius bristled, Narcissa bit back her laughter as she moved to her husband's side, her arm weaving through his to hold his forearm loosely. "Lucius, be kind. The boy's just found his mate… remember those early days? You hardly remembered to put on trousers, let alone shave."

Draco averted his gaze from his parents as Lucius chuckled fondly at the memory and leaned down to steal a small kiss from his wife. "Okay, you two. Despite the atmosphere of this place, which I would like to point out you did little to warn me about, I do not want to witness you snogging over a memory nearly two centuries old."

Narcissa's head snapped towards her son, a dramatic gasp leaving her lips in response to his (entirely false) claim, but before she could reprimand him, blue eyes spotted the pink scar on the side of his neck and her heart leapt to her throat. "Draco! Is that-" Her voice trembled with overwhelming emotion. She knew he had written about finding his mate, but there was no mention of bonding to them yet.

Draco's hand rose, clapping over the side of throat as he turned towards his parents, watching as tears began to slip down his mother's cheek, and he let his hand fall surreptitiously to his side as he tried to find the right words.

"Come now, Narcissa. Don't pester the boy. He'll tell us more about it once he's ready...isn't that right, son?" Lucius patted his wife's hand on his arm and his chest swelled with a pride. All comments about his attire aside, Lucius was happy to know that Draco had clearly found love and made quick work of bonding himself to the girl.

"I will. Of course I will." Draco nodded, taking a deep breath before he looked back up to his parents with the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. Withdrawing his wand from his pocket, he flicked it towards the golden gates and slowly they closed, the magic forcing the malfunctioning lock shut with ease. "I would offer to show you around but...well… you've been here," Draco took two steps back until his footing found the hard stone path.

"We wouldn't want to see the grounds even if we had not. I would much rather meet your mate. I cannot believe you both bonded after only two weeks." Narcissa glided across the grass, the length of her gown sweeping over the earth as her husband guided her after Draco with a fond attentiveness only seen in the rarest of couples. It was obvious, even during the worst of times, how utterly devoted to one another they were.

His...mate. Right? That was the whole point for them to come, wasn't it? Try as he might, he couldn't seem to gulp down the lump in his throat that had lodged itself there minutes before his parents' arrival. "Oh… Are you sure you want to rush into-"

"You heard your mother, Draco. Where is this girl who stole your heart?" Lucius' crisp voice cut him off.

"She's just…finishing up some things, but I supposed we can begin towards the main tent if you'd like," Draco explained, carefully choosing his words as he spun on his heel so his back was to his parents when he lifted a hand to wipe it over his face in silent exasperation. This was not going to be easy, was it? "Since arriving here I have learned a lot of...surprising things about the Veela culture...Did either of you know that the first Veela were actually rumored to be descendents of Venus and Charlemagne? Muggles still have not realised he was magical, which is baffling but then again they likely are not looking at the facts."

Narcissa's thin curved brow lifted at her son's back, and her lips thinned before her eyes narrowed. He was up to something. He did not just ramble like this for no reason. She knew this tell of his far too well. "As excited as I am about you taking an interest in your familial history, what does this have to do with telling us about your mate, Draco?"

Draco glanced over his shoulder to his parents before forward once more, lifting a hand in a silent wave towards a couple sitting on a bench to admire the gardens they walked through. "Well, nothing I suppose. I was just wanting to point out that...well, because of the diverse background it might be best to keep an open mind…when you do meet her."

"You say that as if she is ugly, Draco," Lucius, ever the helpful figure in his son's life, remarked. "Lucky for you, a bit of magic can turn a Thestral into a Queen."

"Lucius!" Narcissa hissed, reaching out to slap her husband across the chest with her left hand before she shook her head disapprovingly at him. "Do not listen to your father, Draco. We will love her no matter what she looks like. Even your father was not my ideal type once I realised our bond, but it did not matter."

"Not your type?" Lucius' thin brows show up towards his hairline in genuine surprise. "And what exactly is your type, _Mrs. Malfoy_?"

"I find it hardly a secret I dated other wizards before we found each other, Lucius. You know very well I had accepted a date with Lucan Selwyn before my first heat hit." Narcissa waved off her husband who seemed to stiffen at the mention of her old beau. "My point was that, looks did not matter."

"Her appearance is not the issue. She is… more than adequate in that department," Draco reassured his parents despite the rising blush on his cheeks. He had never been more thankful they were following behind him than he was in the exact moment. "She is...stunning. It's just that-"

Just as Draco rounded a small bend in the path he nearly collided head first into a beautiful, leggy dark skinned woman who was walking hand in hand with a shorter dark haired man. Draco had met her after his first night with Hermione as she was part of Hermione's entourage and was one of the few he did not loathe to be around. "I'm sorry Estelle. I didn't see you." His hand went out to steady to witch who had stumbled back on the path.

Her dimpled smile widened at Draco as he steadied her and she laughed. "Head in the clouds again, Draco?" she teased. "I was just telling Denji about how you nearly forgot to button your shirt before your meeting with Minister Müller."

Draco shook his head, his hand moving from Estelle's shoulder to brush across the back of his neck sheepishly. "That was less forgetfulness and more your Queen not knowing how to keep her hands to herself," he explained.

"Ma Reine's eagerness can be easily forgiven," Estelle laughed, looking down to her mate who was tugging at her wrist before nodding his head for them to continue down the path. "It seems my own mate might be in the same position as yours. I will see you this evening, Mon Roi."

Draco winced as the title slipped from the Veela's tongue. He had only begun to understand what Hermione meant by the old habits of the people here. They had both insisted everyone call them by their given names, but alas it seemed to make not a bit of difference.

"Draco," His mother's voice rose several octaves, taking on an almost shrill tone as she clutched Lucius' arm for support. "Did that woman just- are you?...Is your mate the Queen!?" Crystal blue eyes flashed between her son and husband, wide with shock. This day just kept getting better and better. Never in her lifetime did she expect there to be another Veela Queen, and now she had just heard her son was BONDED to her.

"Uh… Well, yes. She is the Queen but-"

"Well done, Draco. Nothing less for a Malfoy." Lucius' chest swelled as his hand clapped over Narcissa's that tightened on his arm and he gave it a small squeeze. "We have had many instances of male heirs marrying Queens in our family line. It does not shock they were chosen to be together."

Merlin, this was going to be a hell of a shock for him, wasn't it?

"Hush Lucius, do not try to steal this away from him. This is… this is wonderful! I have only corresponded with the Queen via owl, and only hoped to meet her when we came. Draco, you must take us to her at once!"

"Wouldn't you like me to show you to your cottage first? We selected one that was recently refinished so you could have more modern amenities available during your stay." Draco knew his attempt to sway his mother was feeble, but he had to try. Perhaps if they settled in, Draco might be able to ease them into the idea that his mate-their Queen-was not exactly what his parents would consider traditional.

"It almost makes me think you're ashamed of us, Draco. The way you keep insisting we delay our meeting." Narcissa's big blue eyes flashed at her son with a look she had perfected ever since he turned thirteen: mom-guilt. "Do you not want us to meet your bride?"

"Bride?" Draco croaked, his adam's apple running the length of his throat as he finally managed to swallow the lump he'd held all afternoon. "Circe, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Mother. We just bonded."

"Oh please, like a wedding is such a far-fetched idea. You've bonded with the **Queen**. Of course there will be a wedding. Any self respecting woman would agree," Narcissa scoffed, lifting her wand hand towards her boy, and she waved her fingers at her son in a silent command to lead the way to the woman in question.

Draco hesitated for a moment, silver eyes flickering between his parents as he debating just telling them right here in the middle of the walkway and ripping the proverbial band aid off. Letting out a slow, long suffering sigh he nodded before turning and moving up the stone path in silence.

He could hear his parents' hushed whispers behind him as they moved through the grounds, his mother likely already planning the guest list to a wedding he was not sure would ever happen. It wasn't that he did not want to marry her, but it was still so soon. Beyond that, he was not even sure that Hermione would accept given her independent nature if he had asked.

Ushering his parents into the main tent, which had been magically cleaned since last night's Couplage, Draco lead them through the large hall, down the aisle between the seating areas scattered about. His loafers made no noise as he moved towards the periwinkle door on the far right of the back wall, but he knew Hermione would feel his presence the closer he got, for he could feel her too. It was like a growing warmth that began in the center of his chest and radiated out until it ran to the tips of his toes and top of his head. It reminded him of how his house elves would wrap him in a warmed towel as a small child after his baths, or the way hot butterbeer ran down his throat on a cold winter's day.

His hand waved over the doorknob and the lock audibly clicked open before the door swung slowly in. Draco moved in first, moving to the side so his back pressed into the soft wood of the door as he gestured for his parents to enter their bedchambers.

Hermione lifted her head at the sound of the door being opened and when she saw Draco's face, her heart swelled. She could feel his rising dread, but even without the bond she would have been able to note his feelings based on the apathetic expression he wore. It had taken her nearly two weeks to get him to smile, laugh and show any sort of emotion beyond lust and disinterest. She knew from their youth together that it took years of practice for him to learn to void his emotions, and that it might take years for him to learn it was okay to express himself. Even with the small progress they had made, it appeared just being around his parents brought that edge back to her mate. This was something that Hermione knew she had to fix immediately. Draco would likely never stand up to his father, but she held no fear for the Malfoy patriarch. Beyond that, perhaps her title would be able to provide the clout needed for him to not be such an arse.

Rising from the chair, Hermione let the hem of her dress drop to the floor from where it had been gathered at the tops of her thighs. She wore a silk gown, cornflower blue with thick gold ropes that ran across her shoulders and criss-crossed over her back. The empire waist hugged her ribs and accentuated her figure in a way that seemed to add height to her short stature. Wild curls were left loose, per Draco's request, and hung down to the middle of her back. Bare feet carried her across the room as a soft smile fell across her painted lips.

Narcissa was the first to enter the chamber, her eyes running around the room in appreciation of the selected decor, and when they fell on the familiar witch they widened in shock. She knew almost immediately who she was. The graduating class from Hogwarts during Draco's time was not very large. Fifty students at most, which meant over the years of his education she had become familiar with faces of the students when she would come to visit. Of course, Draco had made sure to point out the swot of a Muggleborn when they visited on several occasions in his complaints about her as a young man.

Lucius, far less subtle than his wife's quiet surprise, froze in the threshold of the room. "...Your mate is the Mu-"

"Muggleborn. Why yes I am, Mr. Malfoy. Draco must get his keen attention to detail from you," Hermione finished for the Malfoy patriarch before he could utter something he would regret. Rising up on her painted toes once she reached her mate, she pressed a soft kiss against his cheek as her right hand rested on his chest.

"Mother...Father. I'd like to introduce you to Hermione...Officially." Draco's arm curled around her thin waist, his fingers brushing across the soft fabric to curl around her hip bone in an almost possessive hold and almost instantly he began to relax. Her touch, her scent and just...her. She managed to ease his worry just by physically being in his reach. He knew the bonding was part of that reason, but in this moment he did not care. He was just happy to have her by his side once more.

"Thank you both for making the trip out here. I was happy to hear you were able to clear your schedules for the weekend." Hermione flashed an award-winning smile to Lucius who seemed to be taking the news in a much slower pace than his wife.

Narcissa let her eyes find her husband before she turned toward Hermione, her spine straightening before she took a step towards her. This was...unconventional, yes. But she was their Queen, and their son's mate! She was not going to let her husband's ignorance ruin what was supposed to be a joyous time. "It is so wonderful to meet you… officially." Taking another hesitant step towards the curly haired witch, she reached out slowly, giving Hermione plenty of time to move away before she took Hermione's hand in hers for a quick squeeze as she leaned in to press two soft kisses on her cheeks.

The greeting was not something Draco nor Hermione had expected, but it did not stop Draco from allowing a shit-eating grin from washing over his features. His smile was so wide he was certain his molars would be showing but he could not repress it despite knowing his father would likely be near horrified. Thankfully the man looked far too concerned with that his mother was doing now.

"You as well, Mrs. Malfoy-"

"Oh, no. You mustn't call me that. Mrs. Malfoy is my mother-in-law and makes me sound horrendously old. No, you may call me Mother," Narcissa corrected immediately, lifting her right hand to touch Hermione's cheek softly just like she would with her own kin. Her thumb stroked across the soft tint of burgundy her lipstick left on Hermione's sunkissed skin to remove it before she took a careful step back to give the witch room.

Hermione let out a soft laugh, her cheeks blossoming in the softest of blushes as she nodded. "Alright. I just want to also convey how much I appreciate the hard work you have been doing on behalf of the board with the Ministry. Your networking skills are truly astounding, and without the connections you made we would have never been able to get the law passed."

"Oh, it was nothing," Narcissa insisted.

Lucius scoffed, knowing full well the amount of hours his wife had dedicated to that cause. She was being modest, or at least trying to come off as such. When he felt three sets of eyes turn on to him at the noise, he reached up to tug at the collar of his shirt. Under normal circumstances he would have left the room, and would not have bothered to hold reception with the witch. He would have called his son mad, and threatened to pull him from the will, but these were not normal circumstances, were they? She was Muggleborn, yes, but clearly there was some sort of ancient magic in her blood if she had claimed the Queen status. And with the bond in place, he knew that it was either accept her as his son's partner, or never speak to him again if he snubbed her.

Setting back his shoulders, Lucius took two large steps toward Hermione and Draco. He noted how his son's hand curled just a bit tighter around Hermione when he approached, as if to protect her, and Lucius bit back a mocking laugh. Like he was stupid enough to do something to their Queen. Without a word, Lucius extended his hand toward Hermione, palm pointing toward the ceiling. When her hand was slowly placed in his, he bent at the waist, long flaxen hair falling from his shoulders to block his face from view as he pressed a kiss onto the back of her hand upon her knuckles. "Ma Reine…It was our pleasure to help you."

Hermione glanced over to Draco, thin curved brows nearly in her hairline at the gesture, and she withdrew her hand from Lucius' when he rose once more. "My name is Hermione. I know you both know this...please, no formalities are needed in my chambers. It is bad enough that everyone here refers to me as such," Hermione insisted before sweeping her hand over towards the breakfast table in her room. She had magically enlarged the table to seat four, and duplicated the plain wooden chairs so each space was filled. "I've ordered us a light lunch if you both would not mind joining us. If you're too tired from traveling, I understand and can have it sent to Alpine Emerald for you."

"Lunch sounds marvelous. It will give me more time to get to know you, and discuss your and Draco's plans on upcoming nuptials." Narcissa moved forward quickly, her arm linking into Hermione's and she peeled her away from her son before either could react to what was happening. She began to walk arm in arm with Hermione toward the breakfast table, a sly grin flashing at her son as she passed him.

"Nuptials?" Hermione's voice took on an almost comical squeak as she was dragged away. Her head snapped up, and she shot Draco a confused plea for help.

"Mother, I already told you. We have not discussed any plans to marry. It's only been two weeks!" Draco moved quickly to follow, offering Hermione a small shrug as he mouthed an apology to her. He heard Lucius chuckle fondly at Narcissa's eagerness to have him married, and it was then he realised that the worry that had eaten at him since the sun rose that morning was all for nothing.

Narcissa only released Hermione's arm from hers once they reached the table and she insisted the witch sit beside her instead of next to Draco, much to the amusement of both men. The four settled into an easy rhythm as they ate and discussed the progression of Hermione's bill with the MACUSA. Draco and Hermione were both thankful no further talk of weddings came, but there was a quiet understanding between the two that the conversation they had not yet had did need to be discussed sooner than either had anticipated.

It was only once the lunch plates were cleared, and Lucius brought up Draco and Hermione returning to England, that Draco had remembered the true reason for asking his parents to come visit.

Reaching across the table, Draco took Hermione's hand in his own, nimble fingers lacing with hers, and his thumb stroked across the outside of her palm softly. "About that. We actually do have a reason for asking you both to return to Les Champs D'accouplement. I wanted to tell you in person, and there was no flexibility in Hermione's schedule to allow us to return to Wiltshire, even for a weekend."

"And what news was so important that it could not be told via owl?" Lucius questioned over the rim of his glass of rosé before bringing it to his lips for a small sip.

Hermione gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, as if to provide him the courage needed.

Taking a deep breath Draco pulled his eyes from Hermione's and he looked between his parents, knowing the impact of this blow might not go over as smoothly as the rest of their afternoon had gone, but surely they would understand why, wouldn't they? "I will not be returning to England for the foreseeable future. Unless you will allow me to work from here, then I will need to resign from Malfoy Industries as well."

"What?" Lucius choked out over his cough as he set his wineglass down with a crisp thunk on the table.

"Hermione and I intended to stay here...in Les Champs D'accouplement."

Lucius looked bewildered at the idea, his brow knitting as he reached up to push his hair back off his shoulders. "Doing what exactly? I know it is customary for the Queen to hold residence here but-"

"Hermione had begun to convert the oral history of Veela to text, in addition to documenting our culture, customs and the hierarchy of our people. This is no small task, as I am sure you both know. Here she will have access to documents that cannot be taken from the grounds due to magical restrictions. I am going to take over her work with the MACUSA. With my background in solicitation I believe we can make some real progress," Draco explained.

"We have just begun working with the coalition of Foreign Ministries to secure proper education and funding for Veela programs around the globe. Draco's expertise would be...incredible. It is a cause close to my heart, and I might be over reaching by saying this, but I think it might the same for him now." Hermione knew this conversation should be left between their family, but the bond made her feel compelled to defend him. Draco, an only child, was the apple of his parents' eye. Even she knew this, and she knew this was not going to be easy on his parents, but on the other hand, her own had grown used to the distance and now came to visit monthly. Something that she was sure Narcissa and Lucius could do as well.

"But surely you can do this work from England...right? I mean… Hermione, aren't your parents there as well?" Narcissa reached out, fingers curling around the thin stem of her wineglass and she took a large gulp, as if the wine was going to make the news go down any easier.

"Like Draco said, I cannot remove diaries and archives from the grounds, but beyond that, if i left, who would help run Les Champs D'accouplement?" Hermione questioned, brown eyes softening on Narcissa.

"Surely there is some competent person you can leave in charge," Lucius scoffed. "Draco, you cannot expect me to just… find someone to replace you. You're needed within the family business."

"No, father. We have decided to stay. This really was not a negotiation with either of you. The decision to not return was not one that came easy. Our people-they need their Queen here, in Les Champs D'accouplement." Draco was quick to shut down the possibility of further argument on the fact. He had never stood up to his father before like this, but he knew he needed to because this was no longer just about himself. He had his mate to consider...and their people now. This was beyond just running his family's business. "Hermione did not know of her heritage when she went into her first heat. Her story is not unique either. We need to be here to help people who find their blood status like she did, but beyond that, we want to be here. To help them and educate… well. I supposed the world on our culture."

"How long to you intended to stay here, then?" Narcissa set her glass directly in front her, her index finger circling the rim of her wineglass in careful thought.

Draco pursed his lips, shifting his mouth to the side as he let the question sink in and he let his eyes fall to look at his own glass of wine to avoid his mother's inquiring gaze. "Uh… I supposed… for forever."

"Forever?" Narcissa breathed in disbelief and she pushed her wine glass away after draining its contents in a quick, very unladylike gulp. Sending him to that blasted school in the highlands was hard enough when he was eleven, but now this?! Countries away...and forever?! "Draco, let's not be hasty. What about your father's business? You're supposed to be taking over next year!"

"Well… surely there is some competent person you can leave in charge… right?" Draco's silver eyes lifted to his mother's and he heard Hermione cover a small laugh with a well placed cough.

"There is nothing we can do to sway your decision?" Lucius questioned.

"I'm afraid not." Hermione gave both of Draco's parents a sympathetic smile.

"But...Draco," Narcissa's voice was near pleading as she turned the full force of her eyes on her son. "I'll miss you."

Draco let go of Hermione's hand and he rose from the table, moving quickly to his mother's side where he kneeled down next to her, both of his hands taking one of her own as he watched tears beginning to well in the corners of her eyes. "You can come whenever you'd like. I will always have a cottage for you and father should you want to come. All you need to do is show up," he promised. He knew this was not going to be easy on her, more so than his father, but hoped that knowing she had a standing invitation here might make the transition from living under the same roof for the past twenty-four years to being thousands of kilometers away more bearable. "Although, if I am being honest… some notice would be appreciated," he joked.

Narcissa laughed, despite the two large tears and slipped from the corners of her eyes and she swatted at her son's shoulder. "Oh...fine. Alright. But do not think I will not be using that cottage at a minimum of twice a month," Narcissa warned both Hermione and Draco. "And, Yule will be held in the Manor this year. No exceptions. You both shall be there."

"We wouldn't miss it," Hermione laughed as she stood from the table, her hands smoothing out the soft cascade of her dress. "But that means you both must spend the coming of the new year here...with us."

"And miss Nott's party?" Lucius questioned with a lifted brow. "Sounds ideal to me. I quiet hate those masquerade balls the old bastard insists on holding every year."

Narcissa sighed, shaking her head at Lucius before she stole her hand back from her son. "I think this is more news than my heart can handle to take today. I think I am in need of a lie down before you tell me more," she teased, and when Draco stood from his kneeling position to offer her his hand to help her up, she happily took it. "Just promise me one thing, Hermione." Narcissa glanced over to the curly haired witch.

"What is that?" Hermione questioned, her head cocking slightly to the side.

"That when the time comes...and I know it will so do not tell me otherwise, you will give birth to any future child in England at the Manor...as all heirs should be," Narcissa insisted as Draco and Lucius both let out a groan. "What? This needed to be said! She might be stealing away my boy, but I will be damned if we forgo years of tradition."

Hermione blushed a deep crimson that she was sure reached down her neck as she struggled to find the right words to say. "...When the time comes… however far out that may be… I will be open to the idea...but no promises."

Narcissa and Lucius bid their goodbyes to Draco and Hermione once it was clear no further talk of potential grandchildren nor weddings were coming. Draco had offered to walk them to the cottage, but Lucius insisted he knew the way. Instead, he left them at the door to the Couplage tent with a promise of finding them the following morning for breakfast. Draco made his way back to his chambers with a spring to his step, his soul much lighter than it had been in years, and when he entered the room Hermione was leaning against one of the posts to their bed, her hands bracing herself against the pole behind her as she tracked his movement through the room like a panther stalking its prey.

Draco picked up on her pheromones instantly, the mouth-watering smell sending a bolt of electricity to his cock immediately as his eyes flashed with a similar heat that hers held. Leaning back on the soft wood of the door, Draco smirked as the tip of his tongue pressed into his canine. "Really, My Queen?" he teased. "My parents just left...besides, don't you have research to finish?"

Hermione shrugged, feigning innocence as she bit her bottom lip. "It can wait… but if you would rather me take care of myself because you are too tired I have a drawer full of devices that can assist me." Moving her right hand from behind her, she reached up and hooked her fingers around the thick gold robes that held her dress over her shoulders and she very carefully slipped them from their hold on her body, sending the beautiful dress pooling around her feet.

Draco's pupils dilated with a familiar heat as his eyes traveled down her curvy figure. The air between them was building steadily with an electricity that raised the hairs on his arms and he tilted his head to the side as he watched her hands run across the soft plains of her stomach, the fingers on her right hand dipping below her belly button on a one way path towards the thick patch of dark curls at the apex of her thighs. He was half tempted to call her bluff and leave her to her drawer of deviance but he knew his own will power would never allow him to just sit and watch when his mate was in need. Just as her fingertips breached the beginning of her mons, Draco pushed off the wall, his hands going to his neck and making quick work of the buttons as he crossed the room.

No words were needed; the look in his eye told Hermione exactly what was to come. With her heart picking up an erratic rhythm, she abandoned touching herself to reach for him when he drew near. Her hand curled around the back of his neck and she pulled him down until their lips met in a fierce kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, sweeping and curling around her own as his hands ran the length of her sides, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

Two weeks was not enough to learn every part of him, but it was enough for her to know that forever with this wizard was going to be just like this kiss. Full of passion, promise and just a hint of pain. Draco and Hermione's relationship had been complicated, but it seemed each day they spent together was closing the old wounds like dittany.

With one hand on the back of his neck, holding his mouth sealed to her own, the other dropped and quickly unbuttoned and pulled the zip of his trousers down. When she pushed them off of his hips, she did not expect to find skin beneath instead of the usual pair of boxers that were normally in place. Breaking the kiss to verify her finding was indeed correct and not just a miscalculation in her brain's part, she inhaled sharply when her eyes dropped to see his rapidly hardening cock. "Draco!" she teased, looking up as she bit her bottom lip trying to suppress a wicked grin.

Chuckling, the kiss swollen wizard shrugged before jutting his hips forward so his cock could rub against the soft skin on her hip and lower abdomen. "Don't act so surprised...this just makes it easier for me to ravish you, my queen." Winking, he reached up and slipped his fingers in the side of her hair, curling until the tug bordered between painful and pleasure before he brought her in for another powerful kiss.

Hermione wasted no more time teasing her mate's lack of undergarments. Partially because she rarely wore her own nowadays but also because she would much rather focus her efforts on getting his hard cock nestled inside her. She moved slowly from leaning on the poster of her bed to crawling backwards across the mattress, careful to keep their lips locked as she tugged him with her until he forced her back so her head lay on the pillows.

Draco let out a low growl as he guided her onto the bed before straddling her hips. His hand dropped, fingers curling around the base of his cock as he looked down at his mate with an almost lascivious glimmer in his eyes. "You know, Hermione...there is something I've been dying to do to you since sixth year." His voice had dropped several octaves from earlier, taking on a thick baritone that made the witch shiver and press her thighs together.

"Oh yeah?" Her pink tongue darted between her lips as her eyes flickered between his hand stroking his cock and his face. Her chest rose and fell with slow, deep breaths as he began to scoot up her body with small shifts of his knees on the mattress.

"Oh...yes. I knew you always had a big mouth, you see...and I used to think of all the ways...I might be able to shut you up." He smirked as he edged his way up her body until he hovered over her ribs. He could feel the rise and fall of her heavy breaths in the inside of his thighs as he looked down his nose as her. "Open up, My Queen."

Hermione complied instantly, plump lips parting to reveal a perfectly pink tongue and her head lifted off the pillow to meet his cock halfway in eager anticipation. Her eyes closed as the saltiness of his precum swept across her tongue as he pushed his cock between her lips. She heard his hand brace himself against the headboard of their bed as he arched his hips forward, careful not to force too much of himself in her mouth just yet.

"Good girl," he hissed, his fingers tightening their hold on the base of his cock as she hollowed her cheeks on his length. He moved in slow, calculated thrusts, hooded eyes watching her face as he fucked her mouth.

Her hands rested on his thighs, fingertips pressing against the ropes of muscles, feeling them flex and loosen with each shallow thrust into her mouth. As he worked into a slow rhythm, her right hand moved slowly from his thigh to slide the narrow opening of his body and hers and she let her fingers brush through the wet curls between her legs. Her index and middle finger worked small circles against her clit as her legs fell open wider to provide her more room for her fingertips.

When her moans increased, sending vibrations through his cock in her mouth, Draco looked behind him to see what he felt her hand doing and a heady groan was released. "Fuck, Hermione," he breathed, blown eyes watching her fingers work herself towards release. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he whispered, turning to look back down at her and he leaned forward more so his cock hit the back of her throat with a quick thrust.

She held off the primal instinct to flee when her oxygen was cut off as his cock blocked the back of her throat, instead focusing on hollowing her cheeks around him and she let her tongue swirl across the bottom side of his manhood as he withdrew himself until he was completely withdrawn from her lips.

Before she could protest, Draco swung his right leg from over her body and he fell back on the bed with his back to the headboard, legs extended out with a wide stance. Reaching over, he pulled her up and into his lap with a little help from her, until she straddled his waist. One hand on her hip, the other curling around her mons so his fingertips pressed between her folds to see how prepared she was for this, Draco let out a soft moan when he felt her nectar already soaking the inside of her thighs. It wasn't love, at least not yet, but Draco knew this adoration that he felt for this witch was beyond biology. She was perfect in and outside of the bedroom and entirely his own.

Hermione's thighs trembled with anticipation as he let his index finger brush against her clit with soft teasing strokes before he parted her labia with his index and middle fingers. "D-Draco," she whimpered, her hips shifting forward in an attempt to bring his hard cock into contact with her burning heat.

"Impatient, my Queen?" he teased as he adjusted his seat on the bed, carefully lining his cock up with her swollen core, and with a small nudge from the hand on her hip, he guided her down onto his cock.

Hermione let out a throaty moan, her eyes fluttering shut as she sank lower and lower until he completely filled her. Her hands moved to his shoulders, fingernails pressing crescent moons into the soft skin on his shoulder. She began a slow rhythm with her mate's encouragement, lifting up onto her knees and sinking low on his cock, careful not to ever fully release him from her body as she rode him.

The further they moved towards oblivion, the more frantic her hips rocked down to meet his. The soft sounds of their bodies joining filled their chamber and the bedframe squeaked in protest. No matter how many times they had done this, the fever built into their need for one another consumed them both until they were a pile of mingled ash.

Hermione found her release first with encouragement from his thumb strumming across her clit and filthy whispers of how much he loved her pussy in her ear. As her body spasmed around him, she clung to him, arms wound around his neck and her face buried in his shoulder, her hips rocking against his to ride out the drudging waves of her orgasm, and as her body milked his cock, he quickly followed.

It was still late afternoon, and they each had duties to attend to around the camp, and research to finish, but it seemed those were all far from their minds as Draco slipped down the mattress, tugging her with him as he was not quite ready to pull his softening cock from her warm core. His arms circled her frame, fingertips from his hand stroking her spine as he pressed soft kisses across the light smattering of freckles that ran over the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks.

Hermione melted into his hold, her leg still hooked over his thigh and her foot dangled against his lower back. The steady thump of his heart could be felt against her own and quickly they found sync with one another as their heavy breaths steadied. It did not take long for the promise of sleep in the warm afternoon sunlight to take hold. Like a milk-drunk cat lounging in the window, Hermione quickly drifted off against his chest.

Draco looked down to her, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as a small grin pulled at the corners of his lips, and he leaned down to press a kiss against her forehead before he let his chin rest on the crown of her head as his own eyes drifted closed. He had never imagined that when he showed up to Les Champs D'accouplement two weeks prior he might find happiness in the arms of his mate, and while the world had a funny way of bringing them together, he knew, without a shred of a doubt, that Hermione Granger was meant for him, and he was going to spend the rest of his life at her side, with or without a bloody ring.


End file.
